


The Frozen Future

by kaleidoscope_dream



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Changing POVs, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscope_dream/pseuds/kaleidoscope_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all promises can be kept. Not all stories can end happily either. Natsume gets sick and the only cure is something he can’t accept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Youkai Water

At first, they thought Takashi had caught a cold.  
  
He had been crossing a frozen river yesterday and a part of the ice had given way, causing him to fall into the depths of the water. The Fujiwara couple were aghast and demanded to know why he would be so reckless, worried about him more than they were angry. His school friends had laughed and told him to get better soon. Then the two who knew his secret had shown up and their stares accused him of hiding things again.  
  
“What were you thinking!” Taki seemed angrier than he had ever seen her. Tanuma, too, looked like he wasn’t going to hold back for once. “Why didn’t you ask us for help if you were having trouble!” She didn’t have to say anything else. Takashi already knew what she meant. He should have told them days ago that something otherworldly had been harassing him. A persistent, savage youkai that wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer - because Takashi wasn’t going to use the Book of Friends for anything but returning a name.  
  
Tanuma lightly tapped him on the head, garnering his attention. “Depend on us, Natsume. You keep forgetting you’re not alone.”  
  
Embarrassed, Takashi pulled the blanket up to cover half his face, the action reminiscent of a small child. Taki struggled not to ‘awww’ at the sight. She was still upset and it wouldn’t be good to let him off easy just because he could sometimes be as cute as his cat. Then Tanuma was brushing sweat-soaked hair out of Takashi’s eyes and she couldn’t help it: she let out her suppressed feelings.  
  
“Both of you stop being adorable! I don’t have my camera!” She crossed her arms and sulked. Albeit, it was funny how fast Tanuma could turn red when it came to Takashi, and she was going to tease him plenty for it later. But right now, she wanted her own Takashi time and pushed Tanuma out of the way, although not with much force. Once she was kneeling at his side, she pulled the nearby bowl closer and wrung out the wash cloth that was floating in it. Then she placed it over the feverish forehead of her friend.  
  
The coolness of the rag made Takashi sigh in relief, thankful for the respite, and he closed his eyes, ready to drift off to sleep - but Taki and Tanuma were still there and that would be rude. He had to say something to them, anything to rid them of their worries. He managed to whisper, “When I get better, you can take all the pictures you want.”  
  
Taki patted his covered up shoulder, grinning, and said, “I can’t wait.” Tanuma didn’t seem too thrilled, but he nodded as well, agreeing there would be an impromptu photo shoot in the future. After that, his two friends left and he fell asleep not long after. He dreamed of cameras and lights, flashes and smiles, and plenty of laughter. He dreamed of his friends.  
  
\--  
  
Days went by and the sickness worsened. His foster family, Touko and Shigeru both, would pace the floors at night, stopping outside his room and listening to make sure he was still there. It was as if they believed he would disappear if they didn't. In a way, their fears weren’t uncalled for; a few youkai had come and gone, with their offers of taking him away, making him better, showing him the world he was missing by being tied to his human body. He didn’t think unkindly of them, but he had no need to become an ayakashi or anything like that. He was going to get better on his own.  
  
Nyanko-sensei didn’t share his opinion and voiced it frequently. _“Fool. You let it get this bad and you still think humans can save you?”_ He noticed, though, that Sensei snuggled a little closer in the futon on nights where they fought. Or on nights when Takashi couldn’t sleep because the coughing kept him up. Or during the day when Takashi’s fever reached its peak and he awoke, twisted in his blankets. But Sensei was always close. His fur would be warm and comforting, and it always made his heart ache a little. He wasn’t used to this many people, youkai and human alike, caring about him.  
  
He was making them all suffer because of his own foolishness. He didn’t know what to do anymore.  
  
\--  
  
Takashi was deathly pale by the end of the month. There were dark circles under his eyes and a tinge of blue to his cheeks. He was thin, much too thin. His clothes hung off him. His hair remained a ratty mess. And he struggled with every breathe he took. Doctors had come and gone and there was nothing they could do. They recommended many things, but none of them had effect - and they swore up and down that it was just a cold. It would go away once Takashi’s healthy and able immune system fought it off.  
  
It didn’t.  
  
Takashi grew weaker and those he loved were forced to watch his life extinguish, bit by bit, like a gently burning flame on the wick of a candle. The more the candle melted, the longer the wick became and the faster it burned. They couldn’t stop it. They didn’t know how.  
  
\--  
  
It was Hinoe who first started leaving hints to Takashi’s friends - his _human_ friends - about what needed to be done. Madara may, or may not, have helped, but it came down to Tanuma discovering a book of lore in his dad’s study that he didn’t remember being there. He thumbed through the book, curious, and then a sudden wind turned the pages for him.  
  
When it settled, he looked around, wondering if a youkai had caused the phenomenon - then turned his attention to the book. The story was about a boy’s sick mother who could not be healed. He didn’t think a coincidence like that existed, but he shrugged aside his doubts and avidly read the text before him. If there was a way to save Takashi, he would do it. Even if the youkai were tricking him.  
  
If it meant Takashi could live, he would sacrifice anything.  
  
He showed the story to Taki the next day at school and she agreed. They would do what it took to make sure their friend didn’t disappear. The day after that, they were absent.  
  
\--  
  
“Drink it,” Tanuma pleaded, but Takashi pushed the bottle aside weakly. “Drink it,” he said again, and he pressed the bottle back to Takashi’s dry lips that begged for something to quench them. _Too white, too raw._ Tanuma had to force himself to look, because the sight of Takashi so withered wasn't something he wanted to see. “Drink it, please,” Tanuma begged, and he hated how his voice cracked and how his eyes began to water.  
  
Taki was the one propping Takashi up, supporting his back, and while she couldn’t see nearly as much as Tanuma, she felt each knob of his spine and every harrowing breath he took. Her eyes met Tanuma’s and they both looked away, unable to convey anything. Without Takashi, the walls around them slammed back into place and refused anyone else entrance. “Natsume,” Taki whispered and she carded a hand through his hair. She winced at the roughness. “Natsume, you need to drink what Tanuma’s holding out. Come on. You can do it.”  
  
He shook his head. “I won’t.” The water was from Mount Fuji. He knew what they were trying to make him do.  
  
But humans weren’t meant to drink the water of youkai.  
  
\--  
  
He was tricked. The bitter taste to his tea went down uneasily and he grimaced. Takashi had thought it would be safe. Touko and Shigeru couldn’t see the supernatural and that meant they couldn’t touch it either. They shouldn’t have been able to lace his tea with Cherry Blossom Liquor from the mountains. That meant someone else had helped, but it was too late to wonder who or decide what he was going to do. There was no going back and he wasn’t strong enough to fight it.  
  
When Natsume Takashi became an ayakashi, there was no dramatic change. There was no flashing light or strange mask suddenly adorning his face. He was just himself, and he was an ayakashi now. He was no longer sick, and he felt more alive than he had in months. But it shouldn’t have been like that.  
  
He didn’t want an eternal life. He would have been all right with dying. It wasn’t something to be feared.  
  
At least then he would have been able to say goodbye.


	2. Spirited Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsume discovers that what it's like to be an ayakashi, and this increases his want to be human again.

There were legends, Takashi knew, that depicted youkai turning into humans - and the reverse was also an undeniable truth, humans could turn into youkai. It was a fact that Takashi had learned for himself.  
  
He sat, unseen, at the dinner table as Touko and Shigeru tried to eat. The mood was stifled, the air thick with a foreign sadness that Takashi had never intended to bring them. He cursed loudly, but his voice didn’t reach them. He waved his hands in front of them, one at a time, hoping against hope they would suddenly be able to see him, but it was to no avail.  
  
Finally, in anger - at himself, at his friends - he slammed his clenched fist onto the table. The table shook with the power behind it, and Touko dropped her chopsticks in surprise. Shigeru was just as shocked, but he hid it well and pushed away from the table, checking underneath to make sure none of the bolts were loose. Takashi took his seat again and apologized quietly, going unheard as he knew he would.  
  
The two that had taken care of him made small talk here and there, picking away at their food and dancing around the subject that was really bothering them - where had Takashi gone? To be so sick and then up and disappear, they hadn’t thought it possible. They had checked hospitals, asked around the neighborhood, and even filed a missing person’s report. Takashi felt sick to his stomach every time he saw one of the posters with his face on it.  
  
He was no longer a part of that world. He was something else entirely.  
  
\--  
  
“Where’s Natsume?” Nishimura demanded of Tanuma one day when the tension had reached its peak.  
  
At school, Taki and Tanuma had been the only ones okay with Natsume’s strange disappearance. He wanted to know why. And he wasn’t letting Tanuma get away either; he grabbed the front of his uniform and held it with all his strength. “Tell me what’s going on!” Natsume had been so damn sick and Nishimura had tried his hardest to prepare for the worst and now this? He couldn’t handle this. People didn’t disappear into thin air. There was no such thing as being spirited away.  
  
“Nishimura,” warned Kitamoto, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “this isn’t the place to be making a scene. We have class.” He nodded his head in the direction of the classroom they were in front of - they were just lucky the teacher wasn’t around right now. “We’ll talk about this after school, yeah?” He directed this last question to Tanuma and narrowed his eyes when the other boy froze up, turning an unnatural shade of white. “What’s wrong?” He glanced out the nearest window and saw nothing.  
  
“Natsume,” the whispered name was barely there, but the two boys heard it and anger filled them.  
  
Kitamoto didn’t bother to stop Nishimura when he took a swing at the other boy. For the remainder of the day, Tanuma was holed up in the nurse’s office and Kitamoto was glad for the distance. He wasn’t sure what he would say to the boy that was so obviously keeping secrets. _Just like Natsume always did._  
  
\--  
  
Tanuma bit his lip when emotions threatened to spill out into reality. Natsume was here. He had seen Natsume again. It seemed too good to be true. After what had happened, he had been sure that - either way - he would lose Natsume forever. Yet he had seen his friend outside the window, sitting on the willow tree’s most sturdiest branch. He had been swinging one leg idly, while the other was pulled close to his chest as he leaned on it. He had looked so lost, whimsical, detached - and for a moment, Tanuma had been struck with guilt.  
  
Then he had chided himself; the decision had been the correct one, he was sure. If not, would he have been able to catch a glimpse of Natsume at all? Surely, if he had left things as they had been, if Natsume’s sickness had gone untreated, he would have lost his most precious friend and never have been able to help him. He would have remained useless. And rather than lose something important, he had chosen to protect it.  
  
He touched his bruised cheek and winced. It was worth it. All of it. Natsume was alive.  
  
A light tapping on the nurse’s window had Tanuma jumping out of bed and rushing toward it, positive it was Natsume - hoping it was Natsume - wishing more than anything he could see Natsume again.  
  
It was just a thin branch fluttering in the wind. Too thin to support Natsume’s now healthy form. And as much as that made him happy, to know that his friend was well and alive and doing all right, he couldn’t stop the disappointment that settled in the pit of his stomach.  
  
\--  
  
“My, my,” a voice that Takashi knew well drawled, “this isn’t quite what I expected to find when I found out you were missing.” Oddly, Natori sounded greatly amused by the whole ordeal.  
  
Takashi probably would have lashed out if it wasn’t for Hiiragi placing a hand on his chest and shaking her head. His emotions were in disarray and he didn’t want to come to terms with his situation long enough to calm down. That would mean accepting that he was an ayakashi. That he wasn’t human. That he could never go back.  
  
Then Natori flicked him on the forehead and he couldn’t help but growl from deep in his throat, which earned him a few raised eyebrows from human and youkai alike. “This isn’t a typical case, you know. If you really wanted to, you could become human again.” Takashi wasn’t sure that was true, but he had read of legends that said it was possible.  
  
And if humans could turn into youkai, he would have to find out if the reverse would be possible for the same person. That faint hope was enough for him to latch onto - to grasp and hold tightly, like a warm hand extended into darkness. He wasn’t going to let go if he didn’t have to. “How?” Takashi asked, stepping around Hiiragi and closer to Natori. “And just how long will it take?”  
  
“Impatient? Something you left undone, perhaps?” Natori reached out and toyed with a lock of his slightly longer hair, eyes as curious as a child. “Just how long have you been in this form, anyway?”  
  
“I-I’m not sure. Nyanko-sensei said it’s been two months, but has it really been that long? It feels like a day or two since that … happened.”  
  
“Tell me everything,” Natori instructed, letting his hand fall. He was serious, not his usual playful self, and Takashi listened to the command. He told him everything.  
  
They were in a park, seated beside each other on a bench now, and Takashi was the first to break the silence that had fallen between them. “You must look pretty weird,” he commented, as if just realizing, “you’re talking to thin air, aren’t you?”  
  
“Hardly.” Natori’s hand was back on his hair, ruffling it affectionately. “Now what I really want to know is -”  
  
“I’m sorry,” interrupted Takashi. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know what was going on.”  
  
The hand atop his head slid down and rested on the back of his neck. “Natsume,” Natori’s voice was soft, warm, and the touch was even warmer. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that warmth until he had it back and he leaned into it. “I’m going to fix this,” promised Natori, “I’ll make things right.”  
  
He wanted badly enough to believe him that he did, unwaveringly.


	3. The Distance Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsume has hope that he can become human again, but now he has to ask himself - is that what he really wants?

“You’re late,” Nyanko-sensei said, “and you smell like an exorcist. Go take a bath.”  
  
Takashi didn’t say anything as he fell backwards onto the futon that the Fujiwaras had yet to put away. They still expected him to come home, and that meant leaving him a place to sleep when he did. He placed an arm over his eyes and sighed. “Sensei, why didn’t you tell me there was a way for me to become human again?”  
  
He heard the cat pause in licking a paw and he peeked out to see Nyanko-sensei was closer than expected.  
  
“What did Natori say?” the cat practically hissed. “That fool!”  
  
Letting his arm fall away, he rolled over onto his side and allowed Sensei to curl up on the futon with him. With the cat so close, he raised a hand - and scratched behind Sensei’s furry ears. “He isn’t a fool. He just wants to make things right.”  
  
“There’s no guarantee of anything, Natsume,” admonished the not-cat, “don’t get your hopes up if it doesn’t work.”  
  
Takashi didn’t say anything again and closed his eyes. Then he admitted, softly, “Or it could work and things would return to how they should have been.”  
  
“What!” Nyanko-sensei struggled out of the arms that encased him and reverted back to his true ayakashi form, growling. “Are you an idiot too? Do you want to die?”  
  
“If there wasn’t a cure in the first place, don’t you think I’m just running away?”  
  
A large white paw came down hard on Takashi’s chest, pinning him. “Aren’t you simply running away by taking the easier path?”  
  
Kicking upwards with his legs, he shoved Madara off him. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Sensei. I can see them, I can touch them, I can hear them, but they don’t even realize I’m here. That I’m _right there beside them_. Why? Why am I so far from them?” He had realized the distance before, but that had been from a human’s standpoint.  
  
He leaned back against Madara’s side and covered his eyes, wanting to hide how misty they had gone. “Do you always feel like this, Sensei? Like there is a wall between you and someone else? One that is too high to climb, too hard to break, too wide to go around?”  
  
“All the time,” Madara said gruffly, turning his head to nudge Takashi none-too-gently. “Does a wall scare you that much? A wall between you and humans? Hasn‘t there always been one?”  
  
“Not like this,” whispered Takashi, “never like this.”  
  
Madara let out a sigh and flopped down onto the floor, taking Takashi with him. “Fine, if you want to get rid of that wall so badly.” He shook his fur to get rid of the tickling sensation of Takashi pressed against him, hugging him. “If it’s just a wall,” he added, a trace smug, “did you forget I could fly?”  
  
Hidden in the white, silky fur, Takashi smiled. “Let’s go flying, Sensei.”  
  
He didn’t feel so alone anymore. Not with hope in front of him.  
  
\--  
  
Hinoe didn’t look impressed with Takashi’s decision and she made that clear when she blew a cloud of smoke straight into his face. “You’re an idiot, aren’t you? What human gives up immortality?”  
  
“That’s what I said!” Back in his lucky-cat form, Nyanko-sensei was adamant that he was against this whole ‘get back to being human’ idea. Takashi saw through the lie, but that didn’t make the whacks on the head any less painful when Sensei said, “This fool! This idiot! This sub-ayakashi life form! Tell him just what he’s getting into, would you?”  
  
“It’s not impossible, but …” She set her pipe aside and let the fire go out. “There is still a chance the disease will return. That is, if it wasn’t a curse. The water from Mount Fuji purifies and gives everlasting life - it was a good choice on your friend’s part. However, if it was something else … something mortal. You will die, Natsume. To become human again, that is what waits for you.”  
  
Takashi took a seat beside Hinoe’s tree stomp and sat cross-legged on the forest floor, placing his elbows on his legs and his chin in his hands. “It would be a lie to say death doesn’t scare me at all, but I know it’s inevitable. For me, who is human. But right now, living as an ayakashi, living forever … it scares me more.” He dropped his hands back into his lap and sat up straight, meeting Hinoe’s questioning gaze. “Knowing how I feel,” he began, “tell me the truth. Do you think I should become human again?”  
  
From his shoulder, he heard a ‘tsk’ and then Sensei’s weight disappeared. “This is stupid. I’m going for a drink.” Takashi didn’t try to stop him.  
  
“I think,” Hinoe answered, once Nyanko-sensei was gone, “you are going to leave a few youkai broken-hearted. We wanted you all to ourselves.”  
  
\--  
  
Takashi did his best thinking at Yatsuhara. The atmosphere was peaceful, relaxing, and it was a place where he could clear his mind. Hinoe had brought up a good point. There were youkai that didn’t want him to be human again. Being human meant there would be an end to the fun, and a human’s life was so short.  
  
He had been too confused before to take it into consideration, but now that he thought about it, Misuzu and Hinoe were happy to have him as part of their world. So were the other ayakashi that he had met and befriended. Like the two he had helped here in Yatsuhara - and the same two that were guarding the field he was laying in, as if their lives depended on it.  
  
The one-eyed, one-horned ayakashi that did the most talking was also the most vocal about his task, declaring it a ‘great honor’ to be of service to ‘Natsume-sama’. Takashi didn’t have the heart to protest and ask them to quit it. Their presence was a bit like a balm to his weary mind, and it was going to be a few days before Natori would return.  
  
He wondered how long the wait would feel to an ayakashi. Or if it would feel like a wait at all.  
  
A frog hopped up onto his stomach as someone said, “Natsume-dono, what are you doing here?”  
  
“Thinking,” answered Takashi honestly, and then he picked up the tiny frog and placed it back where it belonged - on the ground. “Are you looking for something, Misuzu?”  
  
For a second, it was as if the large, horse-like ayakashi hesitated, but his voice held no such weakness. “I am, actually. There is a human girl wandering around. I have been chasing off those who would harm her. If you’ll excuse me, I should be going, Natsume-dono.”  
  
“Wait!” Takashi stood up quickly. “I’ll go with you. Maybe I can help.”  
  
Again, there was that sense of hesitation. And again, Misuzu didn’t let it show. “If that is what you want to do, I cannot stop you.”  
  
\--  
  
It was Taki. He didn’t know what she was doing here at Yatsuhara, but he guessed she was on her way to visit Tanuma, who lived close by. She should have taken another path, though. A safer one.  
  
As evening crept into the surrounding field and forest, the darker everything became - and that darkness stirred the blood of the fiercer ayakashi. “Leave her alone,” he instructed, grabbing one such demon. It was small, about the size of his palm, but it was temperamental and its limbs flailed around restlessly. He only let it go when it grudgingly agreed to do as told and he put it down.  
  
The little feisty spirit bounced off in the opposite direction, grumbling the entire time. He hoped it would spread the word that this area was ‘protected’, because he wasn’t sure he could handle a stronger ayakashi. At least not on his own, but he had Misuzu with him. Taki would be safe, he tried to reassure himself.  
  
He may have been angry at her, but that didn’t mean he wanted anything to happen to her. She had to stay safe so he could yell at her properly.  
  
Following Taki led them to the rebuilt temple where Tanuma lived, and his guess was proven correct. She was here to see Tanuma after all. Her pace quickened when she saw the temple, and they had to jog to keep up with her.  
  
Outside, Tanuma was waiting for her. He waved and she joined him. Takashi felt his heart ache at the sight and wanted to join them.  
  
“Go,” Misuzu suddenly spoke - and this time, the hesitation colored his voice. “You want to go, so go.”  
  
“And you?” Takashi asked, unsure.  
  
“I’ll wait,” promised Misuzu. “I want to see what face you will make upon your return.”  
  
Takashi gave a slight smile. “A happy one, I hope.”  
  
Before Taki and Tanuma could get too far ahead, he ran to catch up with them. _No matter if I’m happy or sad, hurt or angry, I want to see them. Talk with them. Share everything with them._ He would run any distance to be able to meet with them again.  
  
\--  
  
Taki’s concentration was devoted completely to the task ahead of her. First, she created the circle and then divided it up into the sections where the symbols would fit. When she was finished, she stepped back and scrutinized it for discrepancies. After finding none, she began to work on the symbols.  
  
“Does it always take this long?” Tanuma questioned, but there was no ill-meaning behind his interruption and Taki didn’t take offense to it. Actually, she liked being able to share this part of herself, the part she had inherited from her grandfather, and Tanuma was the only one besides Natsume willing to watch her work.  
  
“I want this one to be perfect,” she explained, determined. “I want to be able to see Natsume. I want this to work.”  
  
“Ah.” Tanuma could probably understand her feelings. He probably needed someone to share a part of himself with as much as she did. “I … want to see him, too.” She stopped in her symbol-making and stared at him, wondering about the uncertainty she had heard.  
  
“What is it?” she asked, urging Tanuma to speak up, to get what was bothering him off his chest. He had been too withdrawn lately.  
  
“Well, what if …” he trailed off and lowered his head, his black bangs falling into his face. His eyes were shadowed when he said, “What if Natsume doesn’t want to see us?”  
  
Taki went back to drawing. “Is that all?” She heard Tanuma let out a surprised sound, probably taken off-guard at her dismissive attitude. “There’s no use worrying about that. And besides, if I know anything about Natsume, it’s that he never abandons a friend.” Inwardly, she prayed that she was right. After going against his wishes, forcing him to drink blessed water from Mount Fuji - it was likely that Natsume was furious with them.  
  
But they had waited long enough. Tonight, she was going to see Natsume.  
  
Even if that meant bribing Natsume’s cat with manjuu and promising not to hug him for a month.  
  
\--  
  
Tanuma had never seen one of Taki’s circles work before, so he stumbled back into the door that led to his room when something appeared out of no where. And that something was the youkai pond that Natsume could see, but he never could - only glimpses and only at certain times of day. He had forgotten to tell Taki about the pond, though, and now they were watching red fish swim around in circles.  
  
“Um, Tanuma-kun, did you know that was there?”  
  
With Taki’s gaze on him, he was too embarrassed to admit that _yes, he did_ because now they would have to step into the water, erase the circle, and start all over again. He should have said something earlier. And the reason he hadn’t, the reason he had been distracted, it was -  
  
“I thought you wanted to see me, Tanuma, not this pond.” Natsume was standing in the water, pants rolled up to his knees and his white shirt unbuttoned. He looked like he was ready to go swimming, or like he was about to catch one of those strange fish - but neither could be right. It wasn’t even springtime yet, and that realization reminded him that Natsume wasn’t human anymore. That weather was a luxury, not a worry, for an ayakashi.  
  
Then Natsume bent down and tried to catch one of the fish. “Hey, don’t just stand there. Help me catch dinner!”  
  
That jolted the two of them out of their thoughts and they moved closer to the circle at once. Questions spilled from their lips endlessly, and Natsume listened and replied and he was smiling and laughing and they felt a weight lift from their chests. Natsume was Natsume and nothing had changed - but that wasn’t quite true. While Natsume still looked like Natsume, talked like Natsume, and acted like Natsume, there was a haunted look to his eyes (but at least there weren't any dark circles around them). His body - his arms, his legs, his chest - seemed to give off a faint glow (but at least he wasn’t all skin and bones). And there was something _different_ , something unnamable (but at least there was no more coughing and Natsume was breathing, and that was all that really mattered).  
  
The sun was gone by the time they finally managed to catch a fish - and it was Taki who caught it, holding it up proudly for them to see her prize. Then Natsume splashed her with water and she let it go. They looked at each other, looked at the pond, saw the fish swimming angrily in circles, and burst out laughing - loud as they could.  
  
Tanuma, who was next to Natsume, wrapped an arm around his friend and smiled, proclaiming, “That was a keeper.” But any further laughter died when Natsume tensed and pulled away. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“It’s -” Natsume didn’t finish his sentence; he was too busy pushing Taki and Tanuma down into the shallow pond water. “Stay down! And stay in the circle!” Above them, they saw a hand that was too huge to be a human's, and it was reaching for them. That was when Natsume stood up and attracted the thing’s attention. “Come and get me!” An eye opened up in the palm of the large hand, accepting the challenge.  
  
Beneath him, Tanuma felt Taki shiver and he was torn between what he needed to protect. Natsume made the choice for him, shrugging out of his shirt and telling him to wrap Taki in it. He did.  
  
By the time he looked up again, Natsume was gone.  
  
\--  
  
Takashi panted and struggled to run a little further. Further, he needed go further. As far as he could from his friends.  
  
The bag he had picked up in his haste slid against his uncovered chest and he knew raw, red lines would be visible on his skin when he returned home. At least Nyanko-sensei would be the only one to see them. There was something that still confused him, though - and that was how his belongings ‘disappeared’ when he wore them. Sensei had tried to explain it before, but he hadn’t been paying much attention back then.  
  
The one good part, however, was the Book of Friend had theoretically ‘disappeared’ too. That was why he had to grab the bag before he took off running. It was still his responsibility, even if he wasn’t human. And like always, he was running from a youkai that wanted to misuse the Book. He shouldn’t have met with his friends; he had endangered them. Worse, he hadn’t been able to ask them what he wanted to know most. _Why did you do it?_ He had been able to act like nothing had happened, but it had been on his mind the entire time, that chant of _why, why, why_.  
  
His courage had failed him. He ran faster and further, trying to escape from something that wasn’t just the youkai pursuing him. If he went back to being human, the truth would be there, waiting, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared for it.


	4. To Fight Their Own Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nishimura and Kitamoto decide to try ghost-hunting, and Tanuma and Taki have a run-in with a ferocious piece of paper.

In class, Nishimura paid even less attention than usual. His gaze kept drifting to Natsume’s empty desk and there it stayed. He had been avoiding it, pretending it wasn’t there, but today was different. Today, he had seen Taki and Tanuma in an empty classroom, whispering over a shirt. A shirt that would have been too big for Taki and too small for Tanuma, but it was still a part of their school uniform. It belonged to someone he knew and he was certain that someone was Natsume. And that meant Natsume wasn’t gone - but then, where was he?  
  
“Earth to Space Cadet, anyone out there?”  
  
“When did you get here?” he asked, quickly snapping out of it and looking away. “Is it lunch already?”  
  
Kitamoto glanced at where he had been looking and then said nothing for the longest time. When he did speak up, Nishimura wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Let’s go somewhere else. I want to talk about something.”  
  
\--  
  
They were outside, under the largest willow tree Nishimura had ever seen, when Kitamoto began to explain himself. “This tree is rumored to be haunted, but you know what’s funny?” From the grim, almost bitter look on Kitamoto’s face, there was nothing funny about it. “The rumors say Natsume is the one haunting it.” That was strange to hear that from his level-minded friend. Kitamoto had never been one for idle gossip, so for him to take it seriously - “And I’ve seen it. Something that haunts this tree looks _just like Natsume_.”  
  
Nishimura’s intelligent response was, “Huh?”  
  
“I know. It sounds ridiculous,” admitted Kitamoto, embarrassed - but he rested a hand on the willow tree and his hand did not shake. “Still, I saw what I saw. Do you think it’s possible?” He bent his head, as if acknowledging how foolish he sounded, and his short black hair fell forward. It wasn’t enough to hide his earnest eyes, though, and how alive they were at the prospect of finding his friend. “Do you think Natsume could be here?”  
  
“What are you saying?” Nishimura asked, incredulous. “You think … what? That Natsume’s some kind of ghost?” He didn’t know why, but he started laughing - and then the laughter turned to tears and the tears to rage. “Natsume’s not dead,” he insisted, the words broken with emotion, “and I won’t believe it, so don’t you dare try to make me think otherwise.”  
  
Kitamoto dropped his hand from the tree and said, “I didn’t think it was Natsume either.” There was sadness lingering within every line of his face. “But it would be nice if it was.”  
  
“Then what? A youkai playing tricks? Those things -”  
  
“Don’t exist?” concluded Kitamoto for him. Nishimura shrugged and couldn’t meet Kitamoto’s eyes. He was too afraid that Kitamoto would see straight through him and discover how much he wanted to believe it was possible they did. “Maybe they don’t, but maybe they do. Maybe it _is_ Natsume,” and before Nishimura could curse at him again, he hurried to say, “and it could have nothing to do with the supernatural. Maybe Natsume’s running from something, but staying close to the school.”  
  
Nishimura relaxed and thought it over. It was possible. Natsume didn’t like to trouble others, and this was just the kind of stunt he would pull. If that was the case, they had to help their friend - whether he wanted the help or not. “All right,” Nishimura decided, “we’re camping out at the school tonight. Time for some ghost hunting.”  
  
“I thought you said Natsume wasn’t a ghost?” Kitamoto pointed out, eyebrows raised.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. He will be when I’m done with him.” Nishimura cracked his knuckles with a smile.  
  
\--  
  
For all of his bravado, Nishimura was the one huddling against his friend with every snap of a twig or rustle of a leaf. “I-I’m not scared,” he would insist to Kitamoto, but that didn’t mean it convinced anyone.  
  
“Just be quiet,” Kitamoto replied, after hearing it for the fiftieth time. “You’re going to scare off everything with that loud voice of yours.”  
  
“And what about you? You’re being loud, too!”  
  
“I am not. I’m _whispering_.”  
  
Nishimura glared, because that wasn’t fair. He could be quiet, too - when he wanted to be. It was just harder to do when he felt like they were going to get mugged or eaten by strange creatures. “Fine, whatever. But whose bright idea was it to forget sleeping bags?” He was freezing.  
  
Unimpressed, Kitamoto clarified, “That was your fault. Don’t play dumb.”  
  
“Hey, you could have brought a sleeping bag, or two; it wouldn’t have killed you,” accused Nishimura.  
  
“My little sister would have noticed, and then she would have followed us. Did you want a tag-a-along? Because I can still go back and get those sleeping bags, if you don’t mind.” Nishimura staunchly ignored how sarcastic his friend was being.  
  
“Did you hear something, just now?” There was the faint sound of a harp playing, possibly from inside the school. Or it could have been his imagination, like how Kitamoto had imagined he had seen Natsume in the willow tree.  
  
After a while, the music faded and Kitamoto shook his head, unable to hear anything. “Are you sure you heard something?”  
  
“I-I don’t know. I guess nothing was there.” Uneasily, Nishimura settled back against the willow tree and - maybe, possibly - scuttled closer to Kitamoto. Not that he would admit it.  
  
Kitamoto shoved him over and drew a line in the dirt. “Stay on your side.”  
  
“Aww, come on! Don’t be like that.”  
  
Their argument would have continued in heatedness for a while, if not for a deafening _twang_ that drowned out their furious whispering. It was as if a string had snapped on an instrument - and Kitamoto heard it, so Nishimura was fairly sure their imagination hadn’t conjured something up to scare them. Looking up into the branches of the tree, where the noise had come from, he gasped and grabbed onto Kitamoto’s arm reflexively. “It’s appeared!”  
  
There, floating in mid-air, was a butterfly aglow with golden light. And on the highest branch, where the long, wistful leaves were parted, as if a curtain had been pulled, there stood a harp with a missing string. Someone had just been playing it. In the tree. Above them.  
  
“Y-You know, Kitamoto?”  
  
“Y-Yeah, Nishimura?”  
  
“I don’t think our school has ever had a willow tree.”  
  
They started running when the realization hit them: they had played right into youkai hands.  
  
\--  
  
The next day, Kitamoto had trouble sitting still in class. He kept glancing out the window, his leg bouncing with an anxiety he couldn’t hide, and his eyebrows were drawn down sharply to form a frown. None of this went unnoticed by Tanuma, but his classmate waited until after class to ask him about it.  
  
“Are you okay, Kitamoto-kun?”  
  
“I’m fine,” he bit out, harsher than intended, and let his face fall into his hands as he became aware of how rude he was being. “I’m sorry. The truth is: I’m not fine. But you’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you why.”  
  
“I’ll hear you out.” He heard the scratch of a chair being pulled out and he peeked through his fingers to see Tanuma sitting backwards, resting his arms against the chair and prepared to listen. “You look like you could use a friend.”  
  
He eyed the lingering bruise on Tanuma’s cheek and snorted, dropping his hands entirely and collapsing against his desk. “Like you could have used one back then. You don’t have to try and be polite, Tanuma.”  
  
“We’re friends,” Tanuma was obstinate, “so stop holding back and tell me what happened.” The way Tanuma’s eyes suddenly went distant, he wondered if the guy was still talking to him, but then his classmate snapped out of it. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a willow tree, would it?”  
  
Kitamoto lifted his head and stared. “How did you know?”  
  
“Ah.” Kitamoto _really_ didn’t like the sound of that ‘ah’. It got worse when Tanuma leaned forward, pale as a sheet, and asked, “Did you see Natsume?”  
  
A few pieces of the ever elusive puzzle began to fall into place. “Do you -” _\- see youkai?_ He paused, attention caught when Tanuma hid his trembling hands. He had already turned a blind eye when Nishimura punched him. This time, he wouldn’t turn away from the pain he was causing his classmate - his friend. So he finished his question with, “You like Natsume a lot, don’t you?”  
  
Tanuma breathed out softly, relief reflected in his smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I heard the rumors going around, but it’s silly, isn’t it? The school doesn’t have a willow tree.”  
  
“Yeah, and Natsume isn’t a ghost,” Kitamoto agreed, going along with the conversation. “Because that tree isn’t haunted by a human.”  
  
He was aware of the way Tanuma sat up a little straighter, but Tanuma only said, “Oh?” As if he had no idea what Kitamoto was talking about.  
  
“The tree. I saw it. It’s a butterfly. And it can play the harp.” He would have expected anyone else to start laughing, but Tanuma had turned a sickly shade of white.  
  
“I-It’s not Natsume?”  
  
“I thought we agreed it wasn’t,” Kitamoto said slowly. “Is there something you need to tell me, Tanuma?”  
  
“I have to go!” If there was one thing Tanuma had going for him, it was his ability to make a fast escape.  
  
\--  
  
Taki was as shocked as Tanuma to hear that the ayakashi at school wasn’t Natsume. Then again, they had neglected to ask Natsume the day before if he had been appearing at school. It hadn’t come up, and they had been too distracted by the fun they were having.  
  
They had been together again and that had been all they cared about.  
  
“Maybe Natsume’s actually a butterfly and forgot to tell us?” suggested Taki, but there was no real conviction to her voice.  
  
Tanuma shook his head, saying, “I think we would have noticed the wings if Natsume had become a butterfly ayakashi.”  
  
“That’s if he didn’t hide them,” mused Taki, starting to warm up to the idea. She folded a piece of paper, bored, and flicked it across the table to Tanuma. They were at his house again, discussing Natsume, but this time a circle wasn’t involved. Since another circle meant another instance where they would have to watch, all over again, as Natsume disappeared. There was only so much they could take of that.  
  
Flicking the miniature paper-football back to Taki, he admitted, “I wouldn’t mind seeing a Natsume that had wings.”  
  
“And if they were gold and matched his eyes?”  
  
“Or,” Tanuma snickered, “what if he had antennas?” They both paused as they tried to picture it, paper football forgotten for the moment - and then they fell over sideways, giggling non-stop. “That would make a great picture.”  
  
“Yeah,” agreed Taki, staring up at the ceiling and neglectng to get up. “Do you think a circle would allow him to show up on film?”  
  
“It’s worth a try.” Tanuma didn’t bother to get back up either, content to watch the corner of his room where he could see the shadows of fish he normally couldn’t see. They now reminded him of Natsume and he smiled softly. “Yeah, let’s take one last picture together. All of us.”  
  
“I’ll bring my camera tomorrow.” Taki’s smile mirrored his; it was soft, warm, and a touch playful now that they had mischief to plan. Then they sobered and got back to the discussion they had been avoiding. “So,” she began, “what do we do about the fake-Natsume?”  
  
“I don’t know,” he answered, honest as could be, “but I may know someone who can help.” Sitting up, he flicked the paper football hard enough to fly and land on the relaxing Taki. “By the way, where did you get the paper for that?” He hadn’t had any out.  
  
“It was on the table,” she replied, taking a hold of it as she got up. She tapped the place where she had found it, but Tanums still seemed confused as to how it got there. “It’s not yours?” The paper started moving and she let go of it at once, a cry of surprise torn from her lips. “Do you normally keep paper around that can walk?” And that was what it was doing. It had grown two legs, two arms, and a head - and it was roughly the size of the palm of her hand by now. Paper wasn’t supposed to look that human. It just _wasn’t_. Even her grandfather hadn’t been capable of that. But this was a temple. Stranger things could have happen, she supposed.  
  
“It’s not mine!” Tanuma reminded her and pulled her forcibly away from it. “Run, we don’t know what it is.”  
  
“But we can both see it, can’t we? Maybe it’s not harmful. Let's ask.”  
  
“I’m not going to stand here and ask, and neither are you, let’s go.” Taki didn’t resist when her friend dragged her out of the room and started running. He did have a point; if it had enough power to show itself, then maybe they should just leave it alone. _Is that what we’re going to do about the fake-Natsume?_ That didn’t sit right with her, somehow.  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“To the main temple,” explained Tanuma. “There’s something I want to try if it follows us.”  
  
So he wasn’t just running away. He was thinking ahead. That was more like the Tanuma she knew.  
  
\--  
  
The temple was larger than Taki thought it was from its outward appearance. She felt like they could keep running for ages and still they wouldn’t reach the destination that Tanuma was headed towards. “Almost there,” Tanuma would say, “a few more doors, Taki. Come on, hurry.” She was starting to run out of breath and they had yet to lose their pursuer, and their pursuer kept growing an inch for every door they passed. The paper doll had nearly reached the height of the ceiling.  
  
“Here!” Tanuma cried, and grabbed her hand. She may or may not have blushed, but neither of them were practically mindful of those details right now. The door slammed closed behind them and shut out the thing that had followed them. All they could see was the shadow of it as it prowled outside the room. She wanted to ask why it wasn’t coming in, but Tanuma made her lose her words when he squeezed her hand and said, “Want to help me with that idea I had?”  
  
She wasn’t sure she could say no without hating herself, so - “Sure. What did you have in mind?”  
  
“A sutra. If it’s paper we're up against, I know the perfect one!” He still hadn’t let go of her hand, but that was okay. It reminded her that _no, this wasn’t a dream_. They were going to fight their own battles now.  
  
There was hope for them yet if they could pull this off.  
  
“Do you need me draw something?” she hazarded a guess. That was what she was good at, after all. Tanuma’s encouraging smile told her she was right.  
  
When he finally let go of her hand, he took his time browsing the bookshelves in the room. It was almost like an abandoned library in here: dusty and home to large, ancient texts that were written in some language she didn’t know. She hovered over Tanuma’s shoulder, reading what he was reading but still unable to make much sense of anything. As the seconds ticked by, she couldn’t help but wonder, “Why isn’t it coming inside?”  
  
Tanuma flipped another page in his book. “I’m curious about that, too, but I think it has something to do with the markings in the corners of the room.” He let out a triumphant, “Aha,” and flipped the book around to show Taki what he had discovered. “This. Do you think you can do it in two minutes?”  
  
“That’s all the time you’re going to give me?” She gave a put-upon sigh. “Well, if I must.” Grinning at the challenge, she began to roll up her sleeves. “Make sure to do your job properly, Tanuma. I’m counting on you.”  
  
“Ready?” He placed a hand on the sliding door.  
  
“As I’ll ever be.”  
  
Then they opened the door, knowing very well it could make or break them.  
  
“Over here, you overgrown piece of toilet paper!”  
  
Taki found it hard to concentrate when Tanuma’s insults grew increasingly more exaggerated and shouted, “You’re distracting _me_ more than that paper guy, Tanuma!” She missed the blush that spread across his cheeks when she returned to drawing on the floor. At least Tanuma had taken her words to heart and settled for a more physical showdown, rather than trying to insult it to death.  
  
After the circle’s new symbols were completed, and the paper guy had been smacked a few good times on the head, they lured it into the center where the kanji for fire was written. The rest of the symbols were foreign to the both of them.  
  
Next, it was Tanuma’s turn. “Stay behind me,” he warned, and then he started the sutra. “When a house is on fire, the vessel salvaged is the one that will be of use, not the one left there to burn.” A tiny spark went off where one of the paper legs met the circle on the floor. “So when the world is on fire with aging and death, one should salvage one’s wealth by giving: what’s given is well salvaged.” The spark lit the paper on fire and the doll struggled futilely. The sound of crumpling paper filled the hallway, its cries going unheard without a mouth, and the smell of something burning took prominence over the incense that Taki had used to draw the circle with.  
  
Tanuma remained undistracted. His eyes closed and his hands clasped together, he went on with the sutra, “What’s given bears fruit as pleasure. What isn’t given does not: thieves take it away, or kings; it gets burnt by fire or lost.” The fire spread quickly and the flames dissolved into nothingness once the paper burned, leaving behind only ashes. “Then in the end one leaves the body together with one’s possessions. Knowing this, the intelligent man enjoys possessions and gives.” There was nothing left to burn, but Tanuma finished the sutra anyway. “Having enjoyed and given in line with his means, un-censured he goes to the heavenly state.”  
  
After that, he fell to his knees, panting for breath as if he had just run a marathon. “Taki.”  
  
“What is it?” She approached him from behind, but her gaze was trained on the ashes that were drifting off away on a wind they couldn't feel.  
  
“We did it.”  
  
“We did it,” she repeated. “All that’s left is -”  
  
Someone started to clap and she turned to find a man wearing a hat, glasses, and a coat _inside a temple_. Something about that seemed suspicious to her, and she trusted her instincts.  
  
It was Tanuma who asked, “Who are you?” Taking the words right out of her mouth.  
  
“I thought you would remember me, Tanuma-kun, but it’s really not your fault.” The hat and glasses were removed and Taki gasped, unprepared for the sight, her eyes going wide. “After all, my disguise is masterful, is it not?”  
  
Tanuma felt like face-palming. “You’re that famous actor - Natori-san, right?” He stood up on shaky legs with the help of Taki. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something, but I wasn’t sure how to get into contact with you.”  
  
“You know each other?” Taki’s amazement was crystal clear. “How?”  
  
“Natsume,” the two said at the same time, and she noticed that Tanuma wasn’t as happy about that as Natori was.  
  
“I enjoy meeting Natsume’s friends,” Natori explained, and bowed graciously, “but I apologize for my wayward shikigami. It seems to be the reason we've met on this fateful night. Better than a house full of ayakashi, though. Right, Tanuma-kun?”  
  
Tanuma tensed and moved away from Taki’s support, taking a step closer to Natori. “Why are you really here, Natori-san?”  
  
“You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you? The truth is that I’m after what my shikigami was after, but you’re not what I expected to find.” The actor pocketed his glasses and replaced his hat atop his head. “I don’t suppose you two could spare a few moments? I’d like to talk with you as well.” Then he said what had their attention completely, “It’s about Natsume.”


	5. Discussion with a Side of Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exorcist, an onmyouji, and a priest walk into a bar - or that time Natori, Taki, and Tanuma went out for tea and along came a cat.

  
“Now then,” Natori began, once he had placed an order for tea and the waitress had left (reluctantly, because his dazzling smile had that effect), “would you mind answering a few questions, first?”  
  
Tanuma shifted nervously in his seat. “That depends on the question, don’t you think?”  
  
Natori looked to the pretty girl expectantly, awaiting her own rebuttal. She merely said, “As long as it’s not too personal, I don’t see why not.”  
  
Ah, so she was still wary of him, but not enough to completely ostracize him. That summed up Tanuma’s reaction, too. To put it simply, they were smart, cautious children. He wondered why Natsume couldn’t adhere to the more ‘cautious’ side, like them. Then again, after what they had did …  
  
“I see.” He smiled and laced his fingers together above the table top. “Then what would you say if I asked for your name, little miss?”  
  
She flushed a shade of red that wasn't that flattering, probably remembering she had forgotten to introduce herself. “Taki Tooru. I go to school with - I mean, I used to go to school with Natsume.” At that, her pretty face became crestfallen, but that didn’t particularly concern him. It meant that Natsume hadn’t told them what he was planning, and that was the truly distressing part. Leave it to Natsume to make more work for him to take care of.  
  
“So you both know Natsume through school,” he mused conversationally, still keeping his award-winning smile. “Interesting. Then let me ask you this: have you seen a willow tree at that school of yours? Either of you?” Taki glanced at Tanuma and Tanuma glanced out the window. So it was Tanuma that he would have to interrogate; that sounded like fun. “What did you see? That tree is causing quite a stir. Among humans and youkai alike. Rumors have even reached those in my line of work.”  
  
The girl, Taki, tapped a finger on the table, attracting his attention, and said, “What does acting have to do with anything?” She seemed to know what he was _really_ talking about, so her comment was more of a subtle hint that she wanted him to return the courtesy of an introduction - a proper one.  
  
“My apologies,” he said, “I meant my job as an exorcist. As a descendant of the Natori clan, I have a responsibility to protect those who cannot see what I can from the things you would call youkai. You probably know me from watching my movies, but I assure you, miss. These wondrous good looks of mine are in no danger through my moonlighting as an exorcist.”  
  
“I wasn’t worried about that,” deadpanned Taki. Tanuma snickered.  
  
“Moving on,” Natori cleared his throat, “I have good news and I have bad news.”  
  
“Let’s hear the bad first,” Tanuma insisted, “I’d rather have something to look forward to, if it’s about Natsume.”  
  
Natori studied the boy for a moment longer than necessary, considering something. When he had it figured out, he concluded, “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one that awoke the sleeping ayakashi in the willow tree.” Confusion didn’t suit the boy, so Natori elaborated further. “The ayakashi you saw … it looked like Natsume, didn’t it?”  
  
Instantly, Tanuma paled. “You’re saying it’s my fault … ?”  
  
“No, no,” Natori waved his hand dismissively, “it’s not your fault it looks like Natsume. You can’t help what’s on your mind.” His grin turned slightly wicked. “However, it _is_ your fault if this fake-Natsume attracts too much attention, so I hope you’re ready.”  
  
“Ready for what?” Tanuma seemed to be the plan and wait type, unlike a certain reckless boy he knew. It was good to know this one wouldn’t go rushing off alone, at the very least, and the girl was following her friend‘s lead with conviction. They would make a cute couple.  
  
“Well, this ayakashi feeds on desire,” explained Natori, amusement deepening when Tanuma blushed and Taki gaped - but he had to stop there, because their tea was served and the waitress had lingered to talk. It took a bit of time to politely ask her to leave. And once she was gone, he was sad to discover the previous embarrassment - and Taki's morbid curiosity - had vanished into thin air. “Now where was I?”  
  
“You were telling us how much I desired Natsume,” grumbled Tanuma, sinking lower in his seat. “Was there more to that, or are you making fun of us?”  
  
“There was more,” Natori assured. “The stronger the desire, the faster the ayakashi grows - and the more powerful it becomes. If it becomes even more powerful than it is now, it will surely attract the attention of the Matoba clan, if it hasn’t already.”  
  
“The Matoba clan?” Taki interrupted up, interested. “Just how many clans are there?”  
  
“A great many,” answered Natori, “but none that can equal the Matoba in power.” He glanced around, checking to make sure the crowded, busy café wasn’t host to any savory sorts - and by that, he meant Matoba’s spies. There were no humans that he recognized, so he placed his glasses on and had a second look. No youkai, either. Good. He hadn’t felt anything strange since entering the café with the kids, but he had wanted to be sure. Night was approaching, after all, and there were all kinds that tended to lurk in darkness. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is this. You’re going to have a fight on your hands, and soon, if you don’t stop wishing for Natsume to come back.”  
  
He had never seen two people react like these two did in real life before, but Taki and Tanuma did it splendidly: the shocked expressions, the suddenly bowed heads, and the furious blushes. “Did you think I meant something else by desire?” questioned Natori, masquerading behind a face as innocent as the first dew-drop of spring.  
  
They quickly shook their heads, and Natori decided not to tease them anymore. He didn’t want Natsume mad at him.  
  
“And the good news?” Taki reminded.  
  
“Ah! That’s right. Let’s see, what was it again …” Well, maybe a little more teasing wouldn’t hurt anything. _They’re too easy, Natsume. Forgive me._  
  
“Wait. There’s one thing you didn’t tell us,” Tanuma pressed. “What does any of that have to do with Natsume? The ayakashi, the Matoba, all of it.”  
  
Natori sighed dramatically. “See, this is why you perceptive types are trouble. I’ll spare you the details and tell you this. Matoba will set his eyes on the real Natsume if he comes here and finds an ayakashi impersonating him. If that happens, and he finds out what has become of Natsume, what do you think an exorcist would do?”  
  
The girl whispered, “He would seal Natsume away?” Much too naïve; she was chaste in her thinking.  
  
It was Tanuma that bit his lip and struggled to find the words to ask, “What could he do with Natsume?” This one had seen more of how exorcists worked. He was probably running scenario after scenario through his mind, wondering if Natsume would be killed. Or worse, taken away and enslaved. Because that was what it looked like between a contractor and a youkai, no matter what the person could or couldn’t see.  
  
“Matoba will give him a name,” Natori said, simple and clear-cut. “And that name will destroy any chance Natsume has to be human again. So I’ll say this now, while I have your attention.” And he had it, thoroughly. The both of them were hanging on his every word, as if he had cast a spell - and it started and ended with Natsume. “Matoba must never know what has become of your friend. If someone starts asking, don’t say a word.”  
  
Dropping the serious look, Natori reached for his now cold tea and smiled. “And if you were paying attention, you probably realized - that good news? Natsume is coming back home, where he belongs. But I’ll need a bit of help, if you two would be so kind.” He took a sip of his tea, eyes closed, expression unchanging, and thought, _Some things you just can’t do alone._  
  
“Thank you,” Tanuma said, and Natori snapped open his eyes in bewilderment, raising an eyebrow to urge the boy to go on. “You already told Natsume, didn’t you? That’s why he seemed so …”  
  
Natori coughed when the tea went down the wrong way. “You’ve seen Natsume? The _real_ Natsume?”  
  
“Oops.” Tanuma had a _shouldn’t have said_ _that_ aura around him. Natori didn’t need any special glasses to see that much, and he stared at the boy from over his glasses, at a lost for words. Was Natsume that powerful an ayakashi, or … ?  
  
The boy let out an ‘ow’ and glared at Taki as the girl played with a strand of her hair, too sweet and cute to have been the culprit behind whatever had happened beneath the table. Natori wasn’t going to let this matter drop that easily.  
  
“Taki-san, I was wondering - and this is speculation, mind you - but is it possible that you can draw something that allows you to see youkai?” This time his smile was forced, unlike the previous ones. Taki was fidgety and her gaze was anywhere but on him. It gave off the impression that she had something hide. And if Natsume had told her to - “You know what, Taki-san? Never mind. How absurd that must have sounded, as if anything like that could exist.” He noticed how she winced, as if he had insulted her, but he didn’t take it back - and if she knew any better, she wouldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth.  
  
If it was true, if she was really using forbidden circles, then it was by pure luck that she had met the one exorcist that would look the other way. The one exorcist who had met Natsume and wanted nothing more than to stay friends with him. He would protect her this time, but next time, Natsume would have to protect her from him. He could only pretend for so long these days - and that was another thing he could blame on Natsume.  
  
Picking up his hat, he placed back on his head and tipped it in the direction of the two across from him. “Pardon me, but I need some air. Meet me outside and I’ll walk you both home.” He had taken up enough of their time. Everything that he had needed to say had been said. Paying for his tea and the untouched cups in front of Taki and Tanuma, he stepped away from the table and pulled on his coat. Once it was buttoned, he gave them one last half-hearted smile and walked out.  
  
Outside, the air was cold and he could see his own breath. The unnatural chill was revealed when he said, “Hiiragi, could you do me a favor?”  
  
“Anything,” his faithful youkai promised.  
  
He sighed and leaned back against the café’s outer wall. Overhead, the shop’s sign flashed in bright neon. “I need you to find Natsume. As you thought, the shikigami didn’t work.”  
  
That boy had to be the most paradoxical being in existence. As a human, he was always getting tangled up in Natori’s paper dolls, clumsier than any low-ranking ayakashi. But now, as something that wasn’t quite human, he was escaping him left and right.  
  
Natori wanted Natsume back to his usual clumsy, bumbling ways. Although, it wasn’t so bad being the only human that could touch an intangible Natsume. At the moment, anyway.  
  
He was going to fix things before that changed. Before Matoba came, and tried to steal something that wasn’t his to take. Because he didn’t doubt that Matoba would come. Not when something this interesting was going on.  
  
“Natsume?” Hiiragi repeated.  
  
“Yes, please find him quickly.”  
  
“No, I mean, Natsume is right there.” She pointed out a young man walking towards them; a young man that was holding a lucky-cat in his arms. Natori had to admit, that was fast. She certainly got the job done.  
  
“Hello, Natori-san.” Natsume was smiling, damn him, and looking _happy_. Where were those worries from his human days? His eyebrows would always pull into a tight, fixed expression as he worried and worried and worried some more. Natori wasn’t sure he could handle a Natsume that looked at him like that, like he was his _everything_. And perhaps he was, to Natsume - to the Natsume of right now. He was promising the boy something that had been out of his reach - and now he had to deliver.  
  
“Evening, Natsume,” he replied, and the lecture he had planned on giving him after his talk with Taki promptly exited stage right inside his mind.  
  
\--  
  
Takashi moved Nyanko-sensei around in his arms, trying to find a more comfortable position. “I thought Sensei was joking when he said you were back, but it’s true.” He glanced at where they were, saw the café, and chuckled. “Were you on a date, Natori-san?”  
  
The actor gave a long, wistful sigh of what could only be described as longing. “If only! Unfortunately,” the neon lighting flashed on Natori’s glasses, giving them an almost sinister look, “I got lost, but two kids around your age were kind enough to help me.”  
  
“That must have been horrible. Did you miss your date?” Tired from holding Nyanko-sensei’s dead weight, he placed the cat on his shoulder. His diverted attention was the opening Natori had been waiting for, and the man took full advantage of it, roughly messing up Takashi’s hair. It wasn’t the usual soft affection, but that was okay. It was still warm.  
  
“I didn’t miss anything. Actually,” Natori’s mischievous smile said, _I’m joking_ , “why don’t we continue this date elsewhere, Natsume?”  
  
“You’re not busy?” Takashi disregarded the joke as if it never existed. He had heard worse from this very same person.  
  
Natori seemed to remember something and cursed under breath, sending an anxious glance to the café door. Takashi followed his gaze, but nothing was there. “Natsume, can we meet up at the field where we first met? I have something I left unfinished, so I might be a little late.”  
  
“I don’t mind.” The cat on his shoulder, though, wasn’t the type to be nice and scuffed.  
  
“Don’t come at all, you stupid, suspicious brat!”  
  
Natori remained smiling, even if his eyebrow was twitching. “Who are you calling suspicious, you clingy cat?”  
  
Taking care of the problem, Takashi crashed a fist down on the cat’s wide forehead. An easy target. “Be quiet, Sensei. Natori-san has his reasons, I’m sure. Let’s go. _Quietly_ ,” he tacked on, for good measure.  
  
Nyanko-sensei refused to comply and grumbled about suspicious brats and foolish kids the entire trip.


	6. Even Frozen, Time Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takashi muses, Natori promises, and Tanuma thinks too much.

t was a cloudless night and the stars were shining, as brilliant as ever, from their far off place in the sky. Takashi marveled at their resilience, how they could patiently wait for their light to burn out, never knowing the passing of time and holding out forever. They led a longer life when compared to humans, but they had nothing on the life of an ayakashi.  
  
Nights and days had blended together over the past two and a half months. It was hard to tell the good from the bad, let alone one day from the next. Seconds ticked by, faded into minutes, and minutes into hours, but it all felt like one big blur to Takashi. He barely noticed it, the passage of time. His body no longer needed to sleep or eat, and everything had begun to meld together because of that. It was endless, unforgiving.  
  
Nyanko-sensei swatted at a dandelion and the white seedlings took flight into the night air, disrupting Takashi’s view of the darkened sky. He sat up and held out a palm for a seedling to land on, but a sudden wind caught them and they drifted away. His hand fell to his side, empty. There were plenty of dandelions in the open field, beginning to bud since spring had come early, but for some reason, he had wanted that dandelion to stay - and now it was gone. It would have to grow again, somewhere new, and it would no longer be the same dandelion.  
  
“Sorry for the wait!” called Natori moments later, reminding Takashi that he wasn’t as unconnected from the world as he felt.  
  
He smiled; he couldn’t help it. “How did your date go?”  
  
Natori took off his hat and spun it on one finger, grinning as well. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Then he sat down beside Takashi and bumped shoulders with him, resting his hat on one of his knees. “We’re not here to talk about me, though, Natsume. How are you feeling? Holding up well?”  
  
“Well enough,” commented Takashi, shrugging slightly, the motion connecting him even more with someone from another world. A world he wanted to be a part of again. Like a shooting star, falling, wishing, hoping, knowing it wanted be reunited with something that was always out of reach. “So, how is it? When can I …?”  
  
“A little longer,” Natori promised. “There’s something I have to take care of first.”  
  
Curious, Takashi asked, “Is it a job?”  
  
“Sort of,” was the response he earned. “Don’t worry. It shouldn’t take long.”  
  
That didn’t answer anything, but Takashi let it go. He didn’t have any right to criticize another’s secrets, not when he had so many of his own. “All right,” agreed Takashi, but he made no move to get up, content to stay like this for as long as he could. Side by side and enjoying the fleeting moment.  
  
Natori didn’t seem like he was in any rush to leave either. “You can come with me, you know. I won‘t say no.”  
  
It was a nice thought, but - “I can’t, Natori-san. They may not know I’m there, but I have to stay with Touko-san and Shigeru-san.” Because he had to do something, no matter how small, to return their kindness - the kindness they had shown by taking him in.  
  
“What if,” Natori paused, thinking over his words carefully, “what if you can’t go back, Natsume? Do you realize the gamble you’re taking?”  
  
“I know,” assured Takashi. He was confident of his choice now; he would see things through to the very end. “I trust you, Natori-san. You said there was a way, so I’ll believe in you.”  
  
For his part, Natori chuckled. “Same old Natsume. You haven’t changed at all.” Then he sighed and fixed his gaze on Takashi, serious. “Be careful, I can only do so much.”  
  
“I know,” Takashi repeated, quieter than the last. “I’ll be careful.”  
  
Smiling once more, Natori picked up his hat and placed it on Takashi’s head. “You hold onto that for me, then. I want it back in one piece.”  
  
Takashi tugged at it experimentally and it fell off - landing on Nyanko-sensei, where it stayed. “It’s a little big.”  
  
“What did you expect, Natsume?” the lucky-cat spoke up, unimpressed by his newest accessory and trying to swat it away. “The brat has an ego big enough for the both of you, it has to fit somewhere.”  
  
“Is that why your forehead is so big too, Sensei? Because that hat fits you just right.”  
  
Natori and Nyanko-sensei exchanged looks before turning to Takashi, insulted. “Hey, don’t compare me to that!” It was funny how even their objections were in synch. They were getting along, Takashi decided, and that made him smile.  
  
“I’ll take care of your hat, Natori-san, but with Sensei wearing it, I can’t say whether you’ll get it back in one piece or two.”  
  
\--  
  
That night, Tanuma was unable to sleep. He had too much to think about and not enough time to let it sink in. It would have been a miracle if he _had_ been able to sleep, because while Natori had been civil, there had been an underlying hostility. _This is your fault,_ the man had said behind that smile. _Natsume has to suffer because of you._  
  
It bothered Tanuma that his friend had to rely on Natori now, and it was worse that he had driven Natsume to it. But where had Natori been when Natsume had been so sick? What had the man expected from two kids that desperately wanted to save their friend? If there had been any other option, any means of saving Natsume without having to let him go, he would have taken it.  
  
Natori could scorn his choice as much as he wanted to, Tanuma wasn’t going to regret it. No, what he did regret was the ayakashi that had taken his friend’s form. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if it caused Natsume trouble. Not when Natsume was so close to becoming human again.  
  
His mistakes could be undone, and perhaps Natsume could forgive him, even if he couldn’t forgive himself. Had he been foolish? Had he acted too quickly? It was too late for that, because soon Natsume would be back home and it would be as if nothing had happened. But would it really?  
  
The Fujiwaras were going to be furious and want an explanation. Nishimura and Kitamoto were already suspicious, so they’d want one too. What would Natsume tell them? Another lie, another story? Or the truth? He supposed that last one meant he would have to face the repercussions of what he had done, but he didn’t mind. That was the least he could do, lessening the burden Natsume would have to bear.  
  
Turning beneath the covers of his futon, he pulled the pillow closer and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep. If he wanted to help Natsume, he would have to start by looking forward. There were things that only he could do and he would discover them. He would be of use to his friend, because Natsume was someone he didn’t want to lose.  
  
\--  
  
Nishimura scowled and jerked a thumb in the direction of the large window down the hallway. “What the hell is that guy waiting for?” Because outside a man with glasses posed like a model, smiling his charming smile as he wooed girls with just the shine of his teeth. Nishimura didn’t like him.  
  
“Isn’t that Natori Shuuichi?” remarked Kitamoto, stopping long enough to catch a glimpse out the window for himself. “I heard some girls mention it. Apparently, he’s shown up here before. I wonder who he’s waiting for this time?”  
  
“Who was it last time?” Nishimura wondered. “That had to be embarrassing. The guy practically _sparkles_.”  
  
“It was Natsume,” Kitamoto shrugged and started walking away, his curiosity satisfied. “Maybe he doesn’t know he’s missing?”  
  
This, however, had the opposite reaction from Nishimura, who had been on edge lately and wasn’t calm on the most basic of days. “That creep knows Natsume? Then maybe he knows something! Let’s go, Kitamoto.” He dragged his friend down the stairs, through the hallways, and out of the school before Kitamoto had a chance to say, _I don’t want to._  
  
\--  
  
“My, my, I keep meeting Natsume’s friends in the most unlikely of ways,” Natori laughed. It was hard not to - this was the first time he had been tackled by a boy who wasn’t a fan. “Would you mind letting me up, though? Gravel isn’t as comfortable as it looks.”  
  
The boy who hadn’t joined in on the ‘tackle the famous actor’ plan picked the other boy up by the back of his shirt. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t do anything too crazy.” As comforting as that was, Natori made sure to put a bit of distance between them.  
  
“Is there something I can do for the two of you?” Natori asked, brushing off the dirt and grime from his backside. “I’m in somewhat of a hurry, but it seems I’ve been stood up. So I’ll hear you out.”  
  
“Do you know where Natsume is?”  
  
“Ah, that’s right. When you came flying at me, you said the exact same thing.” He tilted his glasses down, smirking. “What makes you think I know where Natsume is?”  
  
“You kidnapped him, didn’t you?” It was a good thing the other boy still had a hold on his friend or Natori was positive he would have been tackled again. The boy was certainly feisty, he’d give him that.  
  
“I don’t have any shady hobbies, if that’s what you’re asking,” Natori declared, blatantly omitting the fact that he operated as a part-time exorcist. “So no, I do not know where your friend is, nor do I have him locked up somewhere.”  
  
“Then why are you here?” the boy demanded. “Are you looking for Natsume, too?”  
  
“Too?” Natori raised an eyebrow, amused. “Where have you been searching, I wonder?”  
  
“Natori-san!” a more familiar voice called, and Natori turned to the person, beaming.  
  
“At last, Tanuma-kun! I thought you had forgotten about me.”  
  
Tanuma grimaced - and then noticed he wasn’t alone. “Oh. Nishimura. Kitamoto. What are you two doing here?”  
  
“We could ask the same of you,” the more level-headed boy said, but not unkindly. “I guess this is something else you can’t tell us?”  
  
“Sorry,” began Tanuma, apologetic, “but that’s exactly what this is. I’ll explain later! Natori-san, please lead the way.” The boy even bowed, appearing humble and willing - but Natori could see in his eyes that he had found the worst possible candidate as an apprentice. Tanuma was determined, yes, but his eyes were focused somewhere far away, on a place that Natori couldn't tread.  
  
“Well then. Let’s get those after-school cram sessions started, shall we?” Natori smiled, but it was with bitterness.


	7. Cause for Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natori begins Tanuma's lessons and Natsume finds out something unexpected that could bring him trouble.

Hiiragi shook her head when the boy mistakenly lit the wrong candle. Again. He was slow, couldn’t see her, and yet Natori was trying his best to teach this helpless fool. The boy was a friend of Natsume’s, so she couldn’t think too badly of the child, but he was testing her patience with his inability to comprehend even the simplest of techniques.  
  
She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t abandoned this sorry excuse for training yet, Natori had dismissed her long ago, but she supposed it was the boy’s fierce look. As if he _had_ to learn this, and he had to learn it now. That might be the problem, though. He was trying a little too hard for something that should have come naturally to him. He had the power, as slight as it was, and now he needed to learn control over himself. The boy could want as much as he wanted to speed things up, but he was only hurting himself in the end.  
  
Natori was the one to point this out, a hardness to his voice she rarely heard directed at another human being. Unless it was Matoba, because Natori really didn’t like that man. “You’re not going to get anywhere when your focus isn’t where it should be,” Natori said, taking a seat at the table they were working at. He tipped the closest candle to him and it fell over, rolling along the table until it stopped - right at the edge. “This is the simplest of tasks, Tanuma-kun. You’ve already proven your affinity with fire. Now, light just the candles I told you to. Or I’m afraid we’re not going to get very far, even working together.”  
  
Frustrated, the boy tried again. And failed again. He wasn’t understanding anything at all. It was just as frustrating to watch. When Natori grew bored, beginning to watch the seconds ticking away on the clock instead, Hiiragi decided to act on her own. The boy wasn’t able to see her, but there was a way to mess with him. If he couldn’t focus otherwise, it was time to _make_ him focus.  
  
Snapping her fingers, she lit the candle furthest away from the boy, and while his attention was on the sudden flame, she picked up the candle Natori had tossed aside. When it was standing upright again, she lit that candle as well. The boy seemed confused at first, but then he asked, “Are there ayakashi here?”  
  
Natori turned his attention back to the boy and smiled. It wasn’t the usual smile that he reserved for Natsume, which she should have expected, but it was disheartening to see. It meant Natori was taking two steps back for every step he had taken since meeting Natsume, every step that led them here - to this moment without Natsume. A moment that never should have been.  
  
“Perhaps one or two,” Natori replied with his fake, fake smile. Hiiragi hated that façade more than anything lately. She wore a mask, always and forever, but she wasn’t that unfaithful to her own feelings. And if there was one thing she knew for certain, she knew Natori was blaming himself for Natsume’s fate, taking the blame for everything. His acting was perfect, however, when he said, “There not need to be afraid of an ayakashi or two. I mean, didn’t you turn your friend into one?” He was goading the boy, purposely looking for a fight, and that was opposite of what Hiiragi wanted to happen.  
  
If she was prone to human actions, she would have made sure to place a palm over her face, because she was beyond exasperated at this point. They were like children, these two - and while the boy was still very much a child, Natori had no such excuse. So when Tanuma, the foolish boy, lashed out and grabbed Natori by the front of his shirt, it was the start of what Hiiragi thought would lead to a primitive battle.  
  
She was mistaken, though. The boy simply pulled Natori half over the table, where two candles stood, flickering with bright flames, and demanded, “If you blame me for what happened to Natsume, just say it! Stop pretending like that’s not what you think. Just say it!”  
  
Humans, she decided, were confusing beings. They always misunderstood each other, tried to make themselves feel better by hurting others, and when it came down to it, they were fools. All of them. She still liked Natori a little more than most, but that had nothing to do with the here and now - and Natori was being stupid when he said, “I do think that. You’re a kid who shouldn’t have played with fire and now you’re going to get burnt.”  
  
“Ouch!” Tanuma let go of his hold on Natori and patted down his uniform, which was on fire. Hiiragi shook her head, sighing behind her mask. Natori had done that on purpose.  
  
It was going to take a while before these two could play nice. That was the conclusion she reached. She hoped Natsume wasn’t in any rush.  
  
\--  
  
Madara yawned from his perch in the tree.  
  
Natsume was doing the usual, returning a name, and he had no reason to get involved. Well, he was _slightly_ curious since this was Natsume’s first time returning a name as an ayakashi himself, so he wanted to see how that would turn out - but no, no. He wasn’t interested. Closing his eyes, he attempted to take a nap.  
  
Then Natsume let out an annoyed, “What’s going on?” And Madara couldn’t really ignore his charge.  
  
“What happened now, Natsume? Did you grow fangs?” He jumped down from his tree, landing as gracefully as a lucky-cat could - which wasn’t that graceful, in hindsight, and Natsume had to help him off his back. The brat had the nerve to be more concerned with _Natori-san’s_ hat than his bodyguard, though. Madara huffed and swat the kid’s hands away. “So? What’s wrong now?” he prodded. But really, he was wondering if it was too late to take a nap or not.  
  
“It’s not working,” Natsume explained - and that didn’t explain anything.  
  
“What’s not working? The Book of Friends? Try harder, brat.”  
  
“I tried it three time already, Sensei.” Natsume sounded upset, and it was beginning to show on his too honest face. The worry lines that had gone missing were back, because Natsume couldn’t help but worry when his responsibility was taken away - because Natsume was too much of a fool to take advantage of an advantageous situation.  
  
“Is that really a problem?” Madara replied. He placed a paw on the open Book of Friends and stared down the ayakashi that was letting its agitation show as badly as Natsume. “Look, you. Go back home and wait patiently. Natsume is taking a break from name returning - so make sure you let your friends know.” He didn’t say it pleasantly, but it was worded in what could be deemed a pleasant way, so he turned to Natsume, proud of himself - only to find the worry lines were still there and sharper than ever.  
  
He solved the problem by tackling Natsume, who was too easy a target right now. “Don’t get yourself all worked up, brat. What else did you expect? You’re an ayakashi. And Reiko was never an ayakashi.” It had only been a theory in his mind, but now it was confirmed. Natsume wouldn’t be able to return names until he returned to being human. If he _did_ return to being human, because this was Madara’s perfect chance.  
  
If he wanted the Book of Friends, all he had to do was take it.  
  
Natsume wouldn’t use it, and he couldn’t return names. It was useless to him. So it would actually do the boy a favor, if he took the Book now. He hesitated, though, and that was answer enough.  
  
He couldn’t take away the brat’s responsibility while there was still that fleeting chance. A chance for things would return to the way they used to be. Like those fun-filled days he wasted, side by side with a human that would leave him sooner than he wished. As much as he didn’t want to admit to it, Natsume was important to him and he couldn’t leave him - especially in the pitiful state he was in now.  
  
“I told you to stop worrying, so stop worrying!” He placed a paw on the boy’s forehead and pushed, hardly putting any effort behind it. The brat winced and rolled onto his side, so Madara leapt onto the ground and grinned. “I bet you can’t think of anything to do now, can you? Poor Natsume. He’s so pitiful that he doesn’t even have a life when he has all the time in the world!”  
  
Natsume sat up, eyebrows raised. “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse, Sensei?” The brat laughed. It was actually more of a chuckle, but to him, it sounded greater than a laugh. “You’re doing a poor job, either way.” And that was where the brat was wrong, yet again. Madara was _fantastically amazing_. It was how he got invited to so many parties.  
  
“Well then,” Madara feigned aggravation, “what would cheer you up, brat?”  
  
“A trip,” Natsume decided.  
  
“Oi, brat, I’m not your personal taxi.”  
  
Natsume just smiled, and Madara was starting to regret not running off with the Book of Friends when he had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to pick this story for my National Novel Writing Month project, so I'm going to go ahead and post what I have. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that I can get over 50,000 words for this story done in time. Wish me luck!


	8. Visits, Here and There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takashi goes on a short trip and then decides to pay his friends another visit.

"Natsume!" cried a little, fox-like boy as he ran up to his friend. Takashi smiled and welcomed the hug, returning it with one of his own. "It's great to see you again! But -"

Before the boy could question why he was there, Takashi explained, "I needed to get away, so I thought of you." Being this far away from town, he hoped the little kitsune hadn't heard of his town or what had happened - or at least wouldn't question it. And by the way the boy was happily tugging on his hand, there were no more questions to be asked and he merely wanted Takashi's attention for himself.

"I'll show you around then," the fox-boy enthusiastically stated, pointing out things here and there - like his favorite sleeping spot, or the best creek to go fishing in. All the while, Nyanko-sensei grudgingly followed. Someone had to protect the oblivious fools, so he was stuck with that role as usual.

When it grew late, the kitsune invited them to stay, but Takashi shook his head with a smile, just glad he could enjoy time with someone that didn't know of the events that had transpired previously. It had been fun to whittle away the hours with a bouncy, energetic fox that had so much to tell him. Takashi had been able to forget about his troubles for a little while, but now he had to return to where he belonged - and the small fox child understood that, regardless of how disappointed he looked.

"You'll come back, won't you?" the boy asked, hoping, wishing, just as much as Takashi was hoping to return to normal, wishing for it more than anything. Takashi didn't have the heart to let him down, so he promised. He would be back, and hopefully he would be human once more when he did.

* * *

"Well, that was a wasted trip," grouched Nyanko-sensei, who hadn't been able to eat any delicious food during the trip out to the little kitsune's homeland. Takashi laughed before fishing around in his bag and holding out a meat bun that he had procured and hidden, wanting to surprise the cat with it.

"Here," Takashi said, "a thank you for taking me there and back."

The cat didn't have to be told twice and downed the food held out to him, contentedly patting his belly afterwards. "You don't have any sake in there to go with that, do you?"

Takashi gave the not-cat a skeptical look. "Even as an ayakashi, I'm still a minor, Sensei."

The self-proclaimed bodyguard let out an unsatisfied, "Tch," and headed towards the window. "I'll be back later, brat."

"Have a safe trip," replied Takashi, already drifting off into his own thoughts as he relaxed on the futon the Fujiwaras still kept out in the hopes of his return. It wouldn't be too much longer before he made that hope into a reality. At least, that was what he kept telling himself, because considering otherwise would be giving up. And Takashi wasn't going to quietly give up if he could do something about it.

He opened his eyes, fully awake, as something occurred to him. He hadn't told Tanuma or Taki about the possibility of his return. Were they worried since he hadn't been in contact with them lately? With those thoughts in mind, he decided to pay Tanuma a visit at the temple.

* * *

Taki was getting ready to take a bath when she heard rustling in the corner of her room and decided to investigate. One of the practice circles she had been working on was there, but it shouldn't have been complete, so there shouldn't have been anything to worry about. Unless -

"Natsume?" she called, wondering if he was there - and then she grew self conscious when she realizes she was in nothing but a towel. "Er, on second thought. Wait a minute before you answer. I'd rather not believe you were in this room the entire time." Her face a deep red, she excused herself from an empty room and went to change back into her uniform. Upon her return, Natsume was visible, but he didn't seem nearly as embarrassed as her.

"I didn't see anything," Natsume consoled, "but you really should remember to lock your door."

"Like that could stop an ayakashi," deadpanned Taki, flopping down on the floor in front of Natsume. "So what brings you here, Natsume-kun?" She didn't ask how he had gotten the circle to work. He had probably seen so many of them drawn by her hand by now that he could make his own without too much trouble. "Is something wrong?" A sliver of fear crept into her heart as she waited for the answer, but Natsume quickly extinguished it with his next words.

"No, nothing like that. Actually, I have good news, but I couldn't find Tanuma to tell him. Could you pass what I tell you onto him for me?"

Taki pouted and crossed her arms. "You mean I wasn't your first choice?"

 _That_ certainly got a reaction from her friend, who flushed and ducked his head. "I didn't mean it like that! I was going to tell you both separately, so I went to Tanuma's first - because he was closer."

"Uh-huh, sure," Taki said, feigning disbelief, "playing favorites, I see how you boys are."

Natsume let out an exasperated sigh. "Believe what you will." Then something occurred to him and he considered Taki carefully. "You wouldn't happen to know where Tanuma is, and just be distracting me, would you?"

"I might," confessed Taki, "but first, shouldn't you tell me what it is I should know?"

While still suspicious, Natsume didn't press her for an answer. Instead, he went on to tell her what he needed to tell her. "There's a way for me to return to being human." He waited for a reaction - shock, happiness, tears - but none was forthcoming.

Nothing but a small, "Oh," and wide eyes. Natsume had been expecting something different and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Did you already know?" She turned her head away, and he continued with a quiet, "But how?"

"It's … a bit of a long story," mumbled Taki.

"Taki," she raised her head to meet with Natsume's determined gaze, "I have all the time in the world. Let me hear your story."

Takashi's head was spinning with the implications left behind when Taki was done with her tale. Natori and Tanuma together. Alone. Somehow, that didn't seem possible. He had gotten the impression that first time around that Tanuma hadn't liked Natori. And now this?

"But why is Natori-san with Tanuma?" He had a feeling that Taki had omitted certain parts - certain _crucial_ parts - but that was her own decision, and if she felt it necessary, it was probably for a good reason.

"They decided on a student-teacher relationship?" Taki attempted, a bit sheepish at her own choice of words.

"Ah," Natsume furrowed his brows, frowning, "you mean, Natori-san chose Tanuma for an apprentice? How did that happen?"

Taki, at her wit's end, threw her hands in the air. "Enough questions! If you want answers, ask Tanuma yourself!" She hadn't meant that to sound harsh, but it did, so she reiterated with, "I mean, he'll be able to explain what's going on with that apprenticeship better than I can, and I know where you can find him." Natsume leaned forward expectantly. He was almost out of the circle, as if he was a person on the edge of his seat in the theaters, waiting for the suspense to reach its peak. "He's at Natori-san's apartment, practici -"

She couldn't even finish before Natsume was gone. It was her turn to sigh in exasperation. Boys. She would never fully understand them.


	9. The Difference Between Real and Fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natori and Natsume argue and break down, while Tanuma catches up on some pacing.

Sweeping the candles into a box, Tanuma tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking. He was angry and frustrated, and Natori's dismissal had stung, making him fearful of whether or not he should ask to come back. He _needed_ to learn, but they were already at wit's end with each other. And it had only been two hours!

Footsteps alerted him to Natori's return from wherever he had gone and the rustle of cloth alerted him to the fact that his 'teacher' had taken the burnt school jacket from its resting place atop a chair. “I wasn't able to find a way to restore your uniform, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait while I repair it through the more traditional method.”

The tension eased from his tightly coiled body as he realized Natori had actually felt guilty enough to try to do something about it. “It's fine. I can take care of it myself.”

“I insist.” Tanuma wasn't sure what to say to that and turned to face Natori head on. It was difficult to argue when he didn't have anywhere to be, especially with his father out of town for the next few days, but he didn't want to impose. It was abundantly clear that he had overstayed his welcome.

“No.” With a touch of smugness, Tanuma watched as surprise briefly colored the actor's face, as if no one had ever told him 'no'. “I think we're done here.” Before Natori could answer, he added, “Unless you plan to teach me properly.”

There was no warning when Natori slammed him into the wall. Nothing but swift movement and heavy pressure, and Tanuma only had time to gasp as the situation caught up with him. The hands at his shoulders dug into the thin fabric of his shirt and held him in place as Natori drawled, “I am doing my best to be patient here, but please remember that you are _not_ my first choice for an apprentice.”

Tanuma was glad he had talked Taki out of joining these lessons. It gave him a chance to reply without restraint. “I know. Natsume was, wasn't he? But to be honest, if this is how you treat your _students_ , then I'm glad he rejected you.”

For a moment, Tanuma thought Natori was going to hit him, but then the man simply let go and scoffed. “Do not insult me, Tanuma-kun. We have a lot more in common than you think.”

A sudden wind swept through the room and Natori glanced in the direction it came from, an expression of disbelief taking over. Tanuma followed the man's line of sight and saw nothing but an open window – a window he was positive he had closed earlier in the lesson. Unsure of what was going on, he looked to Natori for an explanation. Right about now was when Natsume would tell him to run away or say something like 'everything's fine, I'll just be moment', and he was half-curious as to what Natori would say.

He did not, however, expect Natori to face him and apologize. The actor seemed too proud for that. “We'll continue later,” Natori decided, handing him a rather flashy business card. “Call me if anything happens. And I mean _anything_.”

Tanuma pocketed the card thoughtlessly and then snatched his jacket from Natori’s grip. “Even if I break a nail?” He could see Natori’s jaw tighten at the sarcastic response, but the actor was strangely docile all of a sudden. Suspicious, he cast a glance in the direction he had felt the wind and – a shadow was splayed out against the wall in the exact shape as a young man. Tightening his grip on the jacket, he turned back to Natori. “Is that - ”

“Natsume,” acknowledged Natori, a hint of something in his voice that Tanuma could not place, “what are you doing here?”

* * *

Takashi simply said, “I thought I was welcome over any time.”

Natori folded his arms across chest and looked away. “Of course you are, but I can hardly be an accommodating host when I didn’t even know you were coming over.”

Letting out a soft laugh, Takashi settled at the kitchen table and clasped his hands together above it. “Well then, please allow me to greet your guest.” And while he had laughed, his expression was as faked as Natori’s.

“It’s not that easy, is it, Natsume?” Natori responded, keeping his gaze firmly in the opposite direction. A cheap trick to deceive Tanuma, who was looking around in confusion.

Takashi shrugged and leaned back in his chair, gaze flickering to Tanuma more than once. “For you, I doubt it’s not.”

Something in Natori seemed to come alive at those words, but there was a noticeable restraint as he ground out, “Tanuma-kun, please wait in the other room for a moment.” When the dark-haired boy made to protest, Natori immediately raised his voice to say, “Now!”

Reluctantly Tanuma went into the next room, shutting the door with a curt _thud_ behind himself.

A bit bemused by the theatrics, Takashi asked, “What was that about, Natori-san?” Then he saw the intensity of the stare directed at him and he understood. “You _can_ make me visible to Tanuma, but there’s some kind of catch, isn’t there?”

“Clever, Natsume,” complimented Natori as he finally took the seat across from the ayakashi boy. “That’s exactly right. If you want an ability you don’t possess, it always comes with a catch.” He placed a hand over Takashi’s arm and skimmed the cold expanse of skin there with his fingertips. “A spell of this magnitude adds a certain factor of improbability, since I will be giving you a piece of myself.”

“H-Huh?” Takashi recoiled, unsure of what that meant and not willing to pursue it. “If it’s something like that, I would never -”

Natori smirked and brought his hand to rest on top of Takashi’s. “Oh? Now that you hear what it involves, you doubt my abilities?” The smirk sharpened in to something a bit dangerous, like a tightly coiled snake. “Do you doubt my abilities to make you human as well?”

“This and that are two different things,” pointed out Takashi. “I don’t want you to do something unnecessary for a selfish request.”

The grip on Takashi’s hands became painful, as if Natori was forcing him to stay still. “I see. Then is it unnecessary to make you human again too?”

Taken aback, Takashi struggled to put distance between them, but he no longer could. With a bowed head, he furrowed his brow and thought over what could have provoked this reaction. What was Natori really upset over? What had – He heard shuffling in the room beside the kitchen and a lengthy curse as someone stubbed a toe. Oh. _Oh_ , that was what was going on.

“Are you saying I’m being selfish by wanting to return to the way things were?” Takashi wondered aloud. “Or could you be doubting your own abilities?”

Snickering, Natori released him and held his hands out in front of him, the universal sign for, ‘I surrender.’ “It would be absurd, don’t you think, to expect things to go back to the way they were before all this happened. There’s too much you don’t understand, Natsume. Some of it I don’t think you want to understand or you wouldn’t have asked me those questions.”

Takashi stood as he asked, “Why? Why can’t things be the same?” And Natori repeated the action, coming around the table to pull Takashi into an unexpected hug. There was such force behind the affection that Takashi gave in and let his head rest against Natori’s shoulder, let his eyes close and try to forget why he was here in the first place. That Natori had went behind his back and gotten his friends involved; that he had demanded things of Natori that couldn’t be granted on a mere whim; and that he was angry at himself for keeping secrets until things got to this point and it really was all his fault.

“Let me give you a name,” Natori whispered in his ear, a sweet promise and an end to everything. A promise that none of it had to matter anymore if he wished it so.

Realizing that he had considered it for even a fraction of a second, Takashi pushed Natori away and shook his head. “No. I want to be human again.”

Natori’s expression fell into blankness before recovering with an almost effortless smile. There were too many cracks for it to prove genuine. “Then let me grant your real wish.” Before Takashi could ask anything, Natori grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close once more. “Close your eyes,” the demand was soft, and more like the Natori he was used to, so Takashi obeyed. A pressure on his lips startled him but he didn’t move, curious to find out what would happen next.

Tingling spread from his lips to his neck and then everywhere, much like the flow of blood throughout his real body. For a single instant, he felt human again, and then quickly it faded away to be replaced by the cold, disheartening feel of beads around his wrist. When the pressure at his lips was removed, he tentatively opened his eyes and stared down at the strange bracelet now adorning him. Each bead was a different symbol.

“A temporary contract,” explained Natori, a slight flush to his cheeks. He had yet to release Takashi’s arm, so the young ayakashi stayed put. “It will last until the beads are completely dried up.”

“Natori-san, what -” _What do you gain by helping me?_ He changed his mind on asking that and switched to a quiet, “What can I do to thank you?”

Natori appeared thoughtful for a moment, considering it, and then smiled the smile that had won him the best young actor award not too long ago. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something when we have more time. For now, why don’t you greet my guest? It’s only polite.” When he finally let go of Takashi’s arm, bruises had formed in the shape of a hand. “I’ll make tea.”

Takashi rubbed at the marks, but it was a petty price to pay for what he was expecting of Natori.

* * *

Back and forth, Tanuma paced the small sitting room. There was nothing but a couch, a desk for mail and keys and scattered papers with drawings on them, and a flat screen TV hung on the wall. It barely looked lived in, if not for the desk and its overflowing sense of purpose.

Off to his left was the kitchen, taunting him with its whispers from a voice he longed to hear. And to his right, two more doors that he didn’t know anything about. One was sealed with a paper charm of some sort, while the other looked ordinary and therefore out of place in this wayward apartment.

He was half-way to the deceptive door when he heard a jovial, “I’ll make tea,” loud and clear. Spinning around at the sound of footsteps and the slide of a door against the floor, he hastened to the side of a very tangible Natsume, hardly believing his eyes

“How are you - ?” He reached out and brushed a few strands of hair from his friend’s face, testing this illusion. The strands glowed faintly silver against his fingers, and his disbelief further clouded his expression.

In answer, Natsume lifted his arm and showed off a bracelet of beads, a smile tilting his lips upwards as he explained, “Natori-san is lending me some of his power.”

Tanuma still couldn’t bring himself to believe it, not quite yet. What if this was a cruel joke of some sort? “Why would he do something like that?” _Why can’t I do anything for you?_

Natsume avoided the question and insisted, “I’d rather know why you are here.”

“Natori didn’t tell you?”

Natsume cast an annoyed behind him, into the kitchen, before stepping closer to Tanuma and dropping his voice, “Apparently there is a lot Natori-san doesn’t want to tell me. Fill me in, please.”

Uncomfortable, and for a good reason, Tanuma described what had been going on at school, downplaying the best he could how this ayakashi fed on desire. Outwardly, Natsume appeared to be taking the news of a doppelganger well, but there was a certain stiffness to his friend’s posture that wouldn’t go unnoticed by someone who was truly looking.

“And I suppose you and Natori-san want me to stay out of this?” It was a rhetorical question, but a voice from behind them replied anyway.

“That would be the wisest decision, by far.” Natori waved them back into the kitchen, where they took seats around the table and enjoyed a cup of tea each before anything further was discussed.

Staring straight at Natori the entire time, it seemed Natsume had come to a decision of his own - and by the glint of determination in his eyes, it wasn’t one they were going to like. “I want to help,” Natsume proclaimed, surprising no one.

Natori heaved a put upon sigh and said, “Fine,” which did surprise someone. Tanuma hadn’t expected the man to give in so easily. “You’re going to help whether we want you to or not, so I have a proposition for you.”

Sitting up straighter, Natsume listened with rapt attention. Tanuma propped his chin up on a hand and watched this exchange in detachment, feeling a little left out.

“You will help me teach Tanuma-kun, which means you will remain _here_ and away from the school.”

“But Touko-san -”

“Cannot see you,” finished Natori, “especially in your current state. If you disappear a second time in front of them, it would break their hearts.”

“Wait,” Tanuma interrupted, “how did you make Natsume seem human again, anyway?”

Natori grinned and placed a finger to his lips. “Secret.”


	10. Trouble Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A curious Matoba makes an appearance and Natori actually teaches Tanuma something.

Hiiragi had been tasked with watching over the school and keeping inquisitive humans away from the otherworldly tree. It was a boring job, for very few humans wanted to go anywhere near the thing. There was one, however. A young man with messy dark hair and bright blue eyes. His lips were constantly pressed into a thin line when he approached and there was a sort of uncomplicated air about him. It was the polar opposite to the other boy, Tanuma, whose soul was naturally a storm that built and built until it ravaged anything standing in its way.

As the human grew closer to the tree, Hiiragi would attempt to chase him off with paltry tricks. Footsteps sneaking up on him, leaves rustling in the other nearby trees, twisting the shadows into fearful monsters - not once did the boy turn to see what was behind or beside him. He faced forward and inspected the tree like a puzzle, one he was itching to solve. Then, without Hiiragi having to do anything but wait, the boy would leave and meet up with another boy - a brash contrast to his friend, and who seemed to stay as far from the tree as he could.

She had been guarding the place for three days and the routine had yet to change. It didn't deviate until a stranger to the boy said, "Excuse me, may I ask you something?" Except the person wasn't a stranger to Hiiragi, and she promptly drew her sword and stood in front of the boy. The man, with his long dark hair that hid the right side of his face, spared her an amused curl of the lips before ignoring her completely.

The boy rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I guess. Is it about this tree?" He jerked his thumb at the willow he had turned his back on, ready to leave for the day. A ways off, the other boy - the impatient one - was kicking a black and white ball around, missing this exchange in its entirety. How fickle humans were, to only pay attention when something concerned them.

"You are correct," the man said. "You see, I am interested in the unknown and there are many rumors about this town. Tell me, is it true that Natsume Takashi is dead?"

Hiiragi stepped closer to the man, her sword threatening close, as the boy scowled and demanded, "What does that have to do with you?" His knuckles had turned white from where he gripped his school bag, Hiiragi noticed out of the corner of her eye. Bringing up Natsume wasn't a good idea with someone who had known the boy and didn't know what was going on; she would make sure this man understood that.

"Leave," insisted Hiiragi, "or I will not be held accountable for my actions." She knew what a threat like that would accomplish, and it was disgraceful - but if it was to keep Natori happy ...

"I won't be leaving until you answer the question." Twirling the closed umbrella he carried, he pointed it at the boy - and by extension, Hiiragi. "Now is there a problem? Perhaps a reason you don't want to say anything?"

"He was my friend, you -" The boy had to catch himself before he said something without respect. "Listen, Natsume has nothing to do with any of this. He's been missing for nearly three months, but he isn't dead. And he isn't haunting this tree."

"You seem so sure of yourself," mused the man, "maybe you have seen what truly haunts this tree?" He stared directly at Hiiragi, a victorious gleam hidden in his gaze. "Well then, I think the real mystery here is: where is Natsume Takashi?"

Dropping her stance, Hiiragi resheathed her sword and scowled behind her mask. "Natsume is none of your concern."

"Forgive my late introduction," the man spoke over her purposely, bowing to the boy. "My name is Matoba Seiji, and I would like nothing more than to help you find your friend." 

* * *

"Kitamoto Atsushi," replied the young man. He didn't return the bow. "You seriously think you can find Natsume when even the police and his family couldn't?"

"I _know_ I can," Matoba boasted, "because I know where to look." The serious face of the young man contorted into something bewildered, as if remembering a distant memory that didn't make much sense until he remembered it now.

"Huh, someone said something similar a few days ago." Kitamoto didn't say who, but Matoba had that one figured out. After all, contracted youkai didn't wander frivolously. They stayed close, meant to serve their master at a moment's notice, and that meant his _friend_ was also in town. He would have to drop by for a visit.

Though first he needed information. "Why do the rumors presume your friend dead, may I ask?" It was one of the casual details that had been omitted through countless retellings.

"He was sick," said Kitamoto through clenched teeth. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go now."

"You do not wish to see your friend again? Is it really all right to leave him alone?" He knew he had the boy at once. The crushing weight of the word 'alone' seemed to be the best choice after all. And thankfully, Natori's little spy had gone off to alert its master and couldn't interfere. "I apologize, then. I have meddled where I should not." Turning on his heel, umbrella propped up on his shoulder, he took one step and -

"Wait!"

With his back to the boy, Matoba's let slip a triumphant smile. 

* * *

Madara was appalled when he learned of what Natsume had done this time. It was an utter insult for an ayakashi to rely on the power of a human in that way, even more so if that human was an exorcist. Sharing of power was meant to happen between ayakashi when they deemed the other being worthy of being their life partner. It was a _commitment_ , one that wasn't taken lightly. And then humans had to come along, muck around in waters they shouldn't tread, and take for granted something that actually mattered to him. It was offensive.

As soon as he was within reach of the boy, he had lashed out at the beads, smashing at least two with his true form's power. The purifying light was strong enough to eradicate false bonds, if not an illness, and the chipped pieces fell to the carpet as both Natori and Natsume sat in jaw-dropping awe. His form _was_ pretty majestic when furious.

"Sensei!" Natsume had the nerve to look hurt as he stared at the remaining eight beads. He probably hadn't been told the meaning behind any of it. Madara allowed his temper to simmer and returned to his lucky-cat form, jumping up into Natsume's lap and hissing at the exorcist beside the boy. "What's wrong now?"

"This one is mine, foolish man," Madara directed his words to Natori, dismissing Natsume's concern. "Do not touch him again." A hard punch to the head made him exclaim, "It hurts!" But it also brought him out of his blinding rage. "Stupid Natsume. Do you ever stop to look before you leap?"

"Now, now," Natori tried to soothe, reaching out to pet the not-cat on the head - _mocking_ him no doubt. Madara reacted by biting the hand before it could so much as lay a finger on his noble fur. He dug his teeth in deep and drew blood before he let go, spitting the taste out of his mouth. "Ah ..." Natori didn't seem surprised, merely contemplated his hand and let the blood trickle down his wrist. The youkai beneath the man's skin fled from the sight and coiled half around the man's neck instead. _Creepy,_ Madara thought, licking his fur to get rid of the foul scent that permeated the room.

Natsume put him on the floor like a common household pet and rushed off in a hurry. Alone, Madara glared at the still morbidly fascinated Natori and growled out, "Explain."

"I'm injured," pouted Natori, "can't this wait?"

"Sure. I can wait. How long do you think it'll take for you to digest in my stomach? Because that's as long you get."

Finally staunching the blood, Natori got up and moved over to his desk, where he picked up a letter and flashed it in Madara's direction. "This. I've received word that the Matoba clan is making its move. And I think you understand what that means, my fine furry friend. A temporary contract with _me_ is the last of Natsume's worries."

"You'll be the last of mine if I find out you're lying," Madara promised, just as Natsume returned with a first aid kit. 

* * *

Tanuma arrived to a scene of mayhem. He had knocked for a good five minutes - but when no one answered, he had simply opened the door and let himself in. A mistake, because an ugly cat came barrelling at his face a split second later, an angry Natsume not too far behind. After removing the cat and handing it off to his friend, he glanced around the room to find the owner of the apartment, who was resting on the couch with a bandaged hand over his face.

"What happened here?" he asked, toeing off his shoes and stepping into the sitting room. "Is Natori-san okay?"

Natsume shook his head. "Sensei attacked him, and now he won't sit still and let me lecture him properly."

"Who would!" the cat cried out. "You humans are always sticking your noses in places they don't belong. It's not my fault you're all idiots."

"Huh," Tanuma couldn't think of anything else to say. With a shake of his head, he fished out a book from his schoolbag and approached Natori, holding it out expectantly. "Here, this is where I found ... you know." He glanced at Natsume apologetically, but his friend was no longer paying attention, too busy trying to get Ponta to calm down.

Natori snatched the book away and flipped through it, a frown down-turning his lips. "And you didn't think it at all suspicious?"

"Of course I found it suspicious, but what else was I going to do? He was about to ..." The dark-haired boy stopped short and sighed. "Look, if we're going to help each other, we need to stop this."

"I have no idea what you are referring to by that." Natori snapped the book shut and settled it across his knees. "We have been nothing but amendable since our newest addition to these lessons."

"And you don't think that's a problem? That we can't stand each other until ..." Again, he looked to Natsume who was being ambushed by sharp claws. It didn't seem that either of them was winning. "I don't think we should be working together if that's all we have in common. When it comes down to it, don't you think we're putting Natsume at risk this way? If we can't cooperate we're going to get someone hurt, and I'd rather that not be him."

Natori steepled his fingers over the book and rested his chin on top, a flicker of smile shining through. "You are awfully mature, but still naive. I think, Tanuma-kun, that might be our problem."

Warily, Tanuma asked, "What do you mean?"

Before Natori could reply, a strange chill had entered the room. Tanuma tensed, ready for something to attack from nowhere, and then spun to face Natsume, afraid his friend might have disappeared. He breathed a little easier when he noticed the other boy was still arguing with his cat. The relief was short lived, for the next moment Natori had stood up and gripped him by the shoulder, leaning down to whisper, "Trouble has arrived." And he knew, from a foggy recollection about a man named Matoba, things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

"... You have a plan, I'm guessing?" He had tried not to make it sound like a question, but he had failed. Miserably. He needed assurance that this untrustworthy teacher _could_ in fact be relied on when it counted. He wanted to get along with this man, if only for Natsume's sake, except it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be in theory.

A quick pat to his shoulder and then Natori let go, mumbling something along the lines of, "I always have a plan." The actor stepped around him and moved toward the kitchen after a fleeting glance in Natsume's direction. "Come on, we need to talk." 

* * *

Natori was a complete mess within the safe confines of his mind. He would have started laughing, a touch hysteric, but he was positive Tanuma would have used that opportunity to have him committed. And he really didn't feel like listening to his manager rage about another scandal. _Like that time at the hot springs._ He had gone through a great deal to explain there was a misunderstanding and he had been with a young man. Any and all photos taken had been inadmissible and slander and he made sure the reporter behind the whole ordeal was fired.

If only it was that easy to make Matoba disappear.

After the door was shut behind him, he leaned back against it and crossed his arms, tilting his head up as he considered how best to approach the situation. He could go straight for the ayakashi at the school and exorcise it with some assistance. Tanuma wasn't there yet, but Taki was promising ...

Or better yet, he could use the ayakashi to his advantage and keep Matoba busy. It would allow for more time. However, it was a dangerous gamble. If Matoba figured out what game they were playing, he would adjust the rules. Then Natori would be the one struggling to figure things out. An unpleasant thought, but Natori was good at improvising.

Dropping his gaze from the ceiling, Natori leveled an appraising stare at the young man in front of him. Tanuma stared back, patiently waiting. Or not so patiently, if the nervous shifting was any indication. "How good are you at games, Tanuma-kun?"

The boy rubbed at the back of his neck. "Pretty good I guess. Why?"

"Excellent." Natori pushed off from the door and started toward the cupboards. "What concerns me is your strategy. I admit, you are a lucky young man, but what happens when you are under stress?" He had seen firsthand what Tanuma was capable of - the boy was resourceful and good in a pinch, but there was a major flaw. "Are you perhaps the type that relies on other people?"

"What?" An undertone was hidden there that Natori didn't know how to place. It wasn't anger, for once, but it wasn't disbelief either. Maybe he was willing to fix the problem? Oh, this was going to go a lot smoother if that was the case.

"Yes. I noticed it a while back when you were working alongside the lovely Taki-chan." Rummaging further into the cupboard, he finally found what he was searching for and let out a happy, "Aha!" He opened the box he had stumbled upon and took out the ear pieces inside. They were mini-phones from a spy movie he had worked on a few months ago. The prototypes used for the stage props. He had somehow talked the prop coordinator into parting with them. Well, money had done most of the talking, but he had contributed a few sweet words. "Wear this." He tossed one at Tanuma and placed the other one in his own ear. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to have a little chat with our ayakashi friend. By yourself. On your own merits."

Tanuma had fumbled to pick his up from the floor and now stood there with his mouth hanging open in a most unattractive way. "You can't be serious."

"You're right," mused Natori. "What is a stronger word for serious?"

The young man closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell me you aren't anything even resembling serious. How am I going to speak with something that I can't see?"

"You do the world an injustice with that, but you should know that won't be a problem this time. So no, I won't be accepting that excuse." Natori tapped the piece against his ear and adjusted the volume while Tanuma's piece gave a startling screech and hit the floor once more. "Best be careful with that, Tanuma-kun. I wouldn't want you to destroy our only line of communication."

"This has to be your idea of a joke," Tanuma insisted, bending down to retrieve the ear piece again. He located the little spin dial for volume and hastily turned it down. "Why do I have to be the one ...?" He trailed off and bit his lip in thought. "Does this have anything to do with what you talked about before? About this being my fault?"

Natori simply shrugged. It would be remiss of him to confirm or deny those worries when he wanted the boy to start focusing on his own actions. It wasn't a problem of Tanuma making the wrong decisions - that was debatable and Natori didn't have time to entertain such thoughts. This had more to do with Tanuma second guessing himself. Constantly. If he could get the young man to believe in himself, to trust he was making the right choices, the kid would go far. He certainly had the determination, but there was a lack of courage - the brazen, headstrong kind he saw in Natsume - and that was the root of the problem. "Think about it. You have time. Lots of it. Well, almost. You have until you get to the school. Shall I show you out?"

Struggling to get the ear piece to fit comfortably, Tanuma pretended to ignore him. It was cute how he tried, but also frustrating. He wanted this lesson to work where the others had failed. A lengthy pause put him on edge, but at last Tanuma spoke. "You have ten seconds to explain how this weird thing works before I give up and toss it out the window."


End file.
